After the Fall
by ChelsieSouloftheAbbey
Summary: MODERN AU The death of his soon-to-be ex-wife brings Charles Carson and his daughter, Daisy, to coastal Maine. Elsie Hughes, nurse at Daisy's new school, is soon placed deep into the Carsons' lives. But can Charles, Elsie, and Daisy - and the small town of Misty Cove where they live - survive the aftermath of what's to come? New role for T. Barrow; stars almost entire DA cast.
1. The Most Important Thing

**A/N: Well, hello all! Here is Chapter 1 of my NaNoWriMo project. I decided to tackle a Modern AU, and have set it (quite selfishly) in New England, in order to incorporate as many places that *I* know personally into the story. The first couple chapters, however, are set in England.**

 ****The rating of this story is "M" - changed from "T" - to accommodate the content of a couple of future chapters. If you're looking for a full-blown M-ness quality to each chapter, this may not be what you're looking for. :)**

 **Please drop me a review and let me know what you think! It will eventually be a Chelsie story ... but we're not quite there yet.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

 _ **May 16, 2011: England**_

"Alice, I can barely hear you." Charles was trying desperately to focus on what she was saying. "You can't _what?_ I don't understand."

An angry huff sounded through his phone's earpiece. "Charlie, what is there to understand? It's not that complicated." She entered the nearest shop. "Is that better?" she asked. "Bloody loud traffic."

"Yes, much, thank you," he said gratefully. "Now, what were you trying to explain?"

"The dinner – I'm going to miss it," she said quietly, not wanting to irritate the saleswoman who'd been hoping for a customer and not just someone seeking refuge from the city's noise. "I can't get home in time."

"What? Surely you're joking. What can you possibly have going on that's more important than this dinner?"

"Client meeting," she said swiftly, "I told you about it this morning. Only they've just phoned and they're running late." She paused, rolling her eyes in irritation as she heard Charles grumbling on the other end. "I _couldn't_ cancel, you know that."

"But, you promised -" he uttered.

"Oh, please. You won't even know I'm not there," she answered acidly, cutting him off. "We both know you enjoy yourselves more when you're on your own. I'm sure Robert and Cora won't mind at all."

"That's not true," he argued. "And you've been working so much lately. I just ... I was hoping for a nice evening," he finished lamely, knowing already that it was a lost cause, and that it had been ever since he tapped the answer button when he saw her number float across his phone.

"Give my apologies, and I'm sure you'll have a fine time. I'll call her later if I can, before I head home."

 _Right. Because_ _ **that's**_ _the same._ He sighed again and ran his fingers through his unruly hair, already dreading having to break the news. "Fine. I'll see you when you get home, love."

' _Love.' Wonderful,_ she thought, _just wonderful._

"Of course." And, with that, she hung up.

Charles turned and was startled to see Daisy directly behind him.

"Papa? Was that Mummy?" She was practically bursting with excitement. "Will she be home soon so that we can go?"

He had no idea how he kept his heart from shattering into a million pieces, failing to see that, by now, he simply did so out of habit … and a desire to protect his most precious little girl.

"No, love, she's not going to be home soon," he said quietly. "But you and I are going to leave now and meet your Uncle and Auntie there."

"So she can't come at all?"

He reached his hands down and Daisy readily extended her arms so that he could pick her up. He hoisted her tiny frame and settled her bottom into the crook of his elbow as he placed a kiss to her cheek. She reached her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

"But it's my birthday, Papa. Why isn't she coming?" She started to sniffle, but was trying valiantly not to cry. "I wanted her to be there."

"Are you trying to choke me?" he joked, trying to distract her, "because you are very strong!"

"No, silly!" she chuckled. "I couldn't _really_ hurt you. I'm not strong enough for that - you're too big!"

"I think you're _very_ strong," he reassured her aloud, the meaning behind the words sailing over his beautiful daughter's head. He pulled back and looked into her clear, blue eyes and saw the tears that she refused to let fall, ever vigilant in her attempt to be a big girl. "I think you're stronger than you know," he added in a whisper, touching the tip of his nose to hers.

"Now," he said, putting her down, "shall we find your shoes? Which ones are you wearing tonight?"

"Oh, I'll go get them!" Daisy tore up the stairs to her room, returning with a pair of hideously-glittered pink Mary Janes, a gift that Mary had sent last Christmas from America. "These!" she said gleefully. "They match my shirt, Papa!"

"That they do," he nodded, looking at the top with the pink, sparkly kittens that she'd put on that morning. "Do you need help?"

"No, I can do it," she said, sitting on the floor and concentrating on the buckles. "I'm five now, Papa – a big girl!"

He smiled fondly at her, seeing in her intense, focused expression just how much she resembled her mother, right down to the tip of her tongue peeking out from her lips as she concentrated on the task at hand.

It was just another reminder of how little they saw of Alice, especially lately.

Alice and Charles had met in 1988. Charles was in law school, studying corporate law; Alice, who had studied acting and then moved on to contract law, had been working at the university library until she could find her 'perfect placement' - and it meant she'd seen Charles, a regular visitor to the library, quite frequently as the weeks went on.

He'd noticed her bright smile first, almost too effervescent for her face. She was a year older than he was, but he'd have thought she was years younger, and her beauty had astounded him. After three months of chatting over stacks of books and library loan requests, he'd mustered up the courage to ask her to dinner. Eleven months later, they were married and living in a fixer-upper cottage in the Yorkshire countryside.

After the wedding, Charles had taken a job with a little-known law firm, spending most of his time going over litigation paperwork and small business difficulties. Alice went to work for a local theatre, doing publicity as well as negotiating contracts for a few local actors. As the years went by, the small cottage in the country was sold and a bigger home that was closer to London was purchased, and Charles thought he had it all.

And then, one day, Alice had come home from a routine appointment with the most astounding news: for the first time, at age 41, she was pregnant. Charles was thrilled; Alice was simply stunned. She'd been told as a teenager she'd never bear children and, quite frankly, she'd never wanted them anyhow. But Charles was over the moon, and so Alice had resigned herself to the fact that she'd be a mother in a few months' time.

Things started falling apart in 2008, just after Daisy turned two. Alice, who had quit her job upon finding out she was pregnant, claimed she'd been going crazy being tied down at home all the time. So when an opportunity to work for a large talent agency opened up in London, she'd jumped on it. The commute was a little over an hour, but she didn't mind – it gave her time to switch from the dutiful wife and mother persona she maintained at home to the career maven she felt she _truly_ was, and the ride home late at night allowed her to become the wife and mother once again. Charles was working from home at this point, and so he became Daisy's primary caretaker - something that had thrilled him immensely.

Two years after taking the new job, Alice had managed to amass a client list of over fifty actors, musicians, and dancers – and had become one of the most sought-after agents in all of England. She had a way of making each of her clients feel talented and special, and Charles had to admit that she was perfectly suited to her job. He only wished she'd been as well-suited to being a mother, but it had become increasingly clear that family was simply not her number-one priority. And then, much to her husband's surprise, Alice branched out on her own in the summer of 2010, opening her own agency - 95% of her clients followed her.

In the short time it had taken her to climb to the top, Alice had changed, a fact that Charles could no longer ignore. Long nights out over drinks with colleagues and clients had taken their toll; she'd become edgy, always tired, and rarely had time to spend with either her husband or her daughter. It simply didn't seem like she had any interest at all in being a wife anymore. Because Charles was able to work from home, Alice clearly figured she didn't need to be there – he was capable of raising Daisy, after all. Both Charles and Alice had profitable jobs that kept them in a nice home and put wonderful gifts under the tree at the holidays. It was the prosperous life that Alice had never had growing up, and she'd quickly grown accustomed to it. But Charles, who had grown up surrounded by a good deal of money and not very much love, was heartbroken; simply put, he felt that his daughter deserved more … and he missed his loving wife, the woman he'd thought was fabulous when they met all those years ago.

"Papa?" Daisy's voice called him back from his memories, and he smiled down at her.

"You're ready, then? Got Fred?"

"Right here!" she squealed, holding the stuffed horse high in the air. "I'd never forget Fred, Papa!"

"I know you wouldn't. Alright, then – I believe there is a birthday dinner waiting for us, Milady," he said, extending his forearm down so that she could grasp it.

And so it was that, on a warm night in May, Daisy Carson turned five years old, surrounded by her darling Papa and their closest friends in the world. It was almost enough to make her forget that her Mummy hadn't been able to join them.

 _Almost._

Charles woke hours later to the sound of snuffling.

"Daisy?" he asked groggily. "Darling, what is it?"

"I had a bad dream," she whispered, crawling onto his bed. Charles immediately lifted the covers for her, extending his arm out so she could tuck herself in by his side. He'd been crushed last year when Alice had suggested separate bedrooms, due to the fact that she kept such odd hours and kept waking him when she'd return home after a late meeting. It just felt like one more reminder that she didn't have much interest in being a wife anymore. But, he had to admit, he was sleeping better since he'd moved into the spare.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he whispered. But Daisy only shook her head forcefully, refusing to speak.

"Alright, then," he murmured, kissing the top of her head as he wrapped his arm around her. He felt a strange lump in his side as she moved, and reached down to free Fred from where he lay underneath them, placing the stuffed animal on her belly. "He couldn't breathe," Charles said, causing Daisy to giggle.

"I went to see Mummy, but she wouldn't wake up … she was snoring _very_ loudly," Daisy said. She suddenly gave a great, big yawn. "You always wake up when I come in, Papa."

"Well, I'm a lighter sleeper," he hedged, knowing full well that Alice was likely sleeping off whatever she'd consumed the night before. "You'll see her in the morning, though. Birthday breakfast, hey. Shall we go back to your bed and tuck you in?"

"May I stay here?" she asked sleepily.

"Alright," Charles agreed, "but just for tonight, and only as it's still your birthday. You know you're to be sleeping in your own bed every night now."

"I know," Daisy whispered, yawning again as she pulled the sheet up under her chin. "Good night, Papa. I love you."

Charles felt his heart melt. "I love you too, petal. Sweet dreams."

The smell of bacon and waffles wafted up the stairs. Charles rolled over in bed to see an empty spot where Daisy had been, and he stretched and, after a moment, got up. He pulled on his bathrobe and slid his feet into his slippers, then padded downstairs. Halfway to the kitchen he heard the sound of Alice's voice mixing in with Daisy's giggles. He stopped and stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, just enjoying the happy – and all too infrequent – joviality of the scene.

"And how are the most beautiful ladies in the world this morning?" he greeted them, moving over to Alice and wrapping his arms around her waist.

"We are quite well, thank you," she answered, holding her cheek out for a peck. "I'm so sorry about last night," she said sheepishly. "I was very sad to miss it."

"It's alright, Mummy," Daisy told her. "You're still making my birthday breakfast. Oh, let me show you what Uncle Robert and Auntie Cora got for me!" She hopped off the stool and headed up the stairs to fetch her gift, leaving her parents alone in the kitchen.

Charles stiffened as soon as Daisy uttered her forgiveness, and he backed away from Alice with the excuse of pouring himself a cup of tea. His changed demeanor hadn't gone unnoticed by his wife, who heaved an annoyed sigh.

"You know I couldn't help it," she muttered to him.

"I know," he said, waving his hand as if to calm her. "But … it feels like something _always_ comes up. And it was clearly a very late night, because you weren't home yet when I went up at one o'clock."

"Yes, I came home shortly thereafter, though. And before you harp on me about drinking and driving, you'll notice that I left the car at the office. I'll take a cab in tomorrow and drive home tomorrow evening."

"I wasn't going to say anything, I know you wouldn't risk yourself like that," Charles admonished.

"Right," she said disbelievingly.

It was his turn to sigh. "I just worry about you, love. You do too much. You're working too hard, you're out late most nights … we never see you anymore."

"Oh? That's rich, coming from you," she retorted. "Before Daisy came along, _you_ were the one working like a dog, you know."

"But I was always home at the end of the day," he countered. "We always had dinner together. We traveled together. I miss that, you know."

"I know you do, Charles," Alice admitted, placing her hand on his arm and squeezing it lightly. "And I do, too."

He looked her right in the eyes, and knew instantly she was lying.

"How about we take Daisy away for the weekend?" he suggested out of the blue. "We can head to the beach, rent a cottage on the water. Just us – no work. My schedule is fairly free, what's yours looking like?"

"I think I can make that work," she answered, assuaging his fears for the moment. "If I have things coming up, I'll move them around. It's only a weekend, so that shouldn't be an issue at all."

"Good," he answered, giving her a brief peck on the forehead.

"Let me tell her when she gets back, please? I feel like I owe her something fun."

"That you do," Charles answered, eyebrow raised. "She was very hurt last night."

Alice raised her hands in defense. "I know, alright? My God, you must really think I'm an awful mother."

He reached out and grasped her hands. "You're _not_ an awful mother."

"Aren't I? I'm never home – you're clearly the favorite parent."

"That's not true."

"It _is,_ and we all know it. And that's fine, really - well, mostly. I'm happy to let you take control, to be in charge of Daisy's upbringing, her education. It's not …" She looked down at the floor before whispering, "It's not who I really am. I'm not sure it ever was."

"Hey, none of that," Charles said softly, reaching to tilt her chin up so that she could meet his eyes. "I've not heard that kind of talk from you in ages. Is everything alright?"

"No, Charles. It's not." She pulled away from him as the waffle maker beeped, then opened it and extracted the last waffle for their breakfast. "And we won't be discussing it now," she added, nodding toward the hallway as the sound of Daisy's footsteps making its way down the hallway.

Alice turned her attention to her daughter. "My, my, what is that?" she asked, a little too brightly.

"It's a Winnie-the-Pooh book – see? It's got pictures, and Uncle Robert said that it's _complete,_ which means that _all_ the Pooh stories are in there. I need to take very good care of it," she added seriously. "Papa read me the first one last night before bed."

"Did he?" Alice enquired, looking up at her husband. He didn't notice at all, though, because his attention was solely focused on Daisy.

Alice tried very hard not to be jealous of the unadulterated look of love on her husband's face, but it was no use. It was clear that the man worshipped the ground Daisy walked on, and that he favored his daughter over his wife.

That had surprised Alice when she'd first discovered it. Daisy had been about three months old at the time, and Charles had been walking around the house with her in his arms, singing softly to her in his deep baritone and trying to calm her during a particularly nasty bout with colic. Alice, on the other hand, had been ready to tear her hair out. She had no patience for the wailing, screaming, purple-faced bundle that was their daughter, and she felt as though she could go running from the house and never come back. She'd gone to the liquor cabinet instead, and she'd poured herself a large dram of whisky. She'd downed it in one, then returned the glass to the counter and had gone upstairs for a bath. When she'd come back downstairs, Charles had been sitting in the recliner by the window, rocking the now-calmed Daisy as he softly spoke to her.

"You," he'd said, stroking her wee little nose with the back of his knuckle, "are the most important thing on Earth to me, do you know that? So you cry all you want, my Daisy girl, because you aren't going to scare _me_."

The scene had well and truly shocked Alice, but what she'd come to realize in the months that followed was that she really _didn't care._ It made her a bit jealous to be sure - she'd been so used to being the focus of Charles's life that it was a shock to find out that torch had been passed on to her daughter. But, in other ways, the feeling had been almost _liberating._

Alice really did care for her husband and she saw what a kind and generous man he was. They'd had a whirlwind romance during which he'd wined and dined her and, eventually, proposed. They had a nice home, and their life had been everything she'd ever wanted. But she'd never really wanted _children_ – that had been _his_ dream, being a parent – and she'd gone along with it to make him happy, figured she could have her career eventually _and_ they could be a proper family. But that night, when she'd overheard her husband professing his love to their daughter, she truly felt as though she'd been _freed._

And now, standing in her kitchen and putting waffles on the tray for Daisy to dig into, she realized how trapped she truly was. And she didn't have the foggiest idea what to do about it.

 _That's a lie,_ she told herself quickly. _You DO know what to do about it. The question is: will you?_

 **Here we go! Not sure how often I'll post, as it's only about half-written, but it should take us through until Christmas, I think. Thanks in advance for the reblogs and reviews! xx**


	2. Unwanted Visitors

**A/N: HOLY COW, you guys! I am blown away by the amazing response to Chapter 1. Special thanks to the guest reviewers, to whom I cannot reply directly.**

 **Slight T/W here for automobile fatality (brief mention)**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **September, 2013 - July, 2014: England**_

"Hello, Princess," Charles said as Daisy clambered into the car. "How was school?"

"Fine," she said sullenly. "At least it's Friday."

Charles hummed as he pulled away from the curb. _She's only in her second year of school! How in the world can she already dislike it?_

"Well, what would you like to do this evening? Your wish," he said with a smile, "is my command."

But instead of answering his question, she tossed out one of her own. "Can't we just stay home this weekend, Papa? I don't want to go to the seaside."

"Whyever not, Daisy? Mummy and I have already booked your favorite place, the one with the little puppy that lives in the office, remember?"

"Sparky," she answered, a smile playing about her lips as she said the name. "Yes, I remember. But we don't _have_ to go, do we?"

"Yes, darling, we do. I don't understand – you love the sea! What's this about?"

Daisy shrugged, saying nothing. Charles didn't want to push her, didn't want to say anything that could potentially turn her against her mother. But the fact was, he was pretty sure he knew why she didn't want to go. _Why bother? It won't be a family getaway … they never are, really._

"Mummy doesn't have to work at all this weekend, you know. Well, only that meeting tonight," he amended.

"I suppose."

"Good. Now … tonight?"

"Pizza?" Daisy asked, her face lighting up. He _had_ promised that the evening was up to her, after all.

"As you wish," he replied, giving a little bow of his head.

"And a movie?" she added.

"Oh, wait a moment," he said. He knew what was coming, and shook his head in mock fear. "Not again."

Daisy finally giggled, knowing full well he wouldn't say no anyhow.

"Yes, Papa … _Despicable Me_. The _first_ one."

Charles closed his eyes briefly as he put the car in park. "Right, but I am not -"

"Yes, you are!" Peals of laughter came from Daisy's side of the car as she unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her knapsack. "And we can have popcorn, right?"

"Of course," Charles said, unlocking the door. He held it open for Daisy to head in, and followed closely behind, grumbling, "I am _not_ your personal Gru …"

* * *

Charles put his things away and changed out of his work clothes while Daisy headed into the kitchen to do her homework. She didn't have much, but they chatted back and forth as she worked at the counter and he finished making dinner, so it ended up taking a while. Two hours later the homework was finished and the dinner dishes were put away. As Daisy walked by the dining room, she called out to Charles.

"Papa? Mummy left her briefcase here. Doesn't she need it if she's at her meeting?"

Charles poked his head around the corner. "Sorry?"

"Her briefcase – it's right here," Daisy said, lifting it from the dining room chair. "She never goes to work without this."

 _No, she doesn't,_ he thought, a feeling of dread suddenly creeping down his spine.

"You should call her and ask, Papa. Maybe she needs it. She'd be in trouble if she rushed out and forgot it."

"Well, she's the boss, so _that's_ not likely," he replied with a smirk. "But I will call and see."

He pulled out his phone and tapped the 'Alice – office' icon, then paced around the kitchen as he waited for the receptionist to answer. He glanced at the clock: _18:16._

No answer.

 _No answer means no receptionist,_ he told himself. _Not no Alice. It only means that she sent Gail home on time an hour ago, and that she's meeting with a client._ He tried her mobile, and the shiver that had previously down his spine settled in the pit of his stomach as it went straight to voicemail, not ringing even once.

Alice was _never_ scatterbrained – her phone would never have been dead. Which meant only one thing, Charles realized: she'd shut it off.

 _And,_ he finally accepted, _she's undoubtedly NOT at work after all._ Which only left one other option, really … the one he'd suspected for months now but had never wanted to confirm.

"Papa?" Daisy asked softly. "Are you alright? You don't look like you feel well."

Charles smiled brilliantly, wondering how Daisy didn't see right through it (and wondering later if, perhaps, she _did_ ). "I'm fine, petal. How about you grab us a bowl and I'll start the popcorn, hm?"

"Yay! And then I'll get the movie started."

"Do you know how to work the Blu-ray player?" he teased. "You are only seven, after all."

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Yes, _Gru_ ," she sighed dramatically. "Besides," she added, heading into the living room, "we don't need the Blu-ray. I saved it in the recorder last time we watched it on the telly."

"I assume you know what that means _and_ what to do about it," he grumbled.

"Yes," she called patiently. "I've already set it up – come on, Papa!"

"Just let me make the popcorn and I'll be right there!" _She's seven going on seventeen, I swear._ "You know it takes a minute." Once the kernels finished popping, he poured them in the bowl and added a drizzle of real melted butter and a dash of salt, then grabbed a few napkins. He delivered the bowl to Daisy, then returned to get their large glasses of milk.

Prep finally complete, he sat down on the sofa and settled himself in for a night of laughing, snacking, and teasing with his favorite person on Earth … trying desperately, in the meantime, not to let his mind wander as it worried about whether or not this little piece of heaven was now in jeopardy.

He had a sneaking suspicion that their time away at the seaside _wouldn't_ be happening after all.

* * *

Five hours later, Charles pulled himself from sleep as a familiar voice reached his ear.

"I'm home," Alice purred into his ear. "Are you awake?"

Charles felt the blankets lift as Alice climbed in. He froze without meaning to; she noticed.

"C'mon, Charlie," she mumbled. "I missed you."

"Nice of you to join us tonight. And you've been drinking - what a surprise," he said bluntly. "You likely don't even know what you're saying."

"What's that supposed to mean? I had a drink or two after my meeting, so what? I got home just fine, and we leave tomorrow for an overnight at the beach. Let's start the weekend off nicely, alright?"

She reached out and ran a carefully-manicured nail up his thigh, surprised and a little hurt when he flinched and moved away.

Charles sat up against the headboard and turned on the bedside lamp. He looked at his wife, _really_ looked at her for the first time in weeks. "Where were you really?" he asked.

"Charlie? What in hell are you talking about? I was working late." She blanched, though, and he saw it immediately.

"No, you weren't. I _called_ you, Alice, because Daisy found your briefcase on the dining chair."

Alice ran her tongue across her bottom lip, in contemplation of what to say. She opted for silence, which was perhaps the worst choice of all.

Charles shook his head and closed his eyes, willing his emotions to remain in check as he confronted the truth at last.

"For how long, Alice?"

"What?"

"Don't play me for a fool now … not anymore. For how long? What's his _name_?" Before she could answer, another piece clicked into place. "Oh, my God, he's a _client,_ isn't he?"

She looked into his eyes and saw there was no point in lying about it. "Damn you, Charles," she spat, her oncoming headache making it hard for her to keep her mind clear. "Did you have to do this _tonight?"_

His jaw dropped, incredulity flowing off of him in waves. "You're joking, right? You came in here to make love to me, after months of not coming near me _at all_ and - what's even more insulting - after you've clearly been with someone else! You're half-drunk, you claimed to be at work this evening, and I figured out you weren't only because our _daughter_ found your briefcase and worried you'd be in trouble if you didn't have it. Why did _I_ have to do this tonight? Oh, that's rich!"

"Oh, _please!_ Daisy doesn't care about me being in trouble. Not that I would have been anyhow – I'm the goddamn boss."

"Yes, that's what I told her," he retorted. "And she cares a great deal about you, not that you'd notice. You _are_ her mother. She loves you more than you realize," he said, "and more than you deserve, perhaps."

Alice pursed her lips, wishing now that she'd just gone to her own bed. She didn't know what she'd been thinking, coming in to see him, pretending everything was normal again … not after so many years of struggling. She saw the impossibility of her situation, the way that their lives were about to change in immeasurable ways. All that time spent working on her career – putting it above her family, to be sure, but managing to make something extraordinary for herself in the process. She could see it all coming down around her head now because of a half-drunken conversation in her husband's room, in a bed she hadn't shared with him in months.

"Where did we go wrong, Charles?"

He just stared at her, too stunned by her question to speak. He shook his head, and looked at her with fresh eyes.

"Charles?"

"I'm sorry, where did _we_ go wrong? I'd say _we_ went wrong when you decided that Daisy only needed one parent," he whispered angrily, not wishing to wake their girl but unable to keep silent any longer. Years of frustration were bubbling up and bursting forth, and he could barely control it all. " _We_ went wrong when you started spending eighty hours a week at work. _We_ went wrong when you spent more time on your clients during our 'family weekends' than you did with your family. And _we_ went wrong when _we_ forgot that props like briefcases are quite necessary when _we_ are pretending to be working when _we_ are, in fact, rolling around in another man's bed!"

"Fine. I realize that I've ruined this family, that I've fucked up this marriage," she said, ignoring how he flinched at her choice of language. "I can accept that. But I'm not happy here, and I don't think I have been for a long time," she said quietly, starting to cry.

He just stared at her, dumbfounded. "I don't understand you. I don't know what else I could have done to make sure you would be as happy today as you were when we were first married. I tried everything - working from home, keeping the house going, doing the shopping, the cooking …"

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it as she cried softly, the buzz from the alcohol wearing off as a feeling of deep emptiness settled in her chest. "You _did_ always take care of everything – I realize that, and I will own this. I've made a mess of us, and I am truly sorry for that. But I can't keep pretending to be happy with this life. I don't even know why I ever thought I could. And I don't think _you're_ happy with our life anymore, either. Not really - not with _us,_ anyhow." She tucked her legs up, resting her chin atop her knees, and looked so much like Daisy in that moment that it nearly broke his heart.

"Are you in love with him?" Charles asked, fearing the answer she would give and ignoring the burning tears that were now running down his own face.

"I'm not sure, to tell the truth. I think so," she admitted. "He's not you, I do know that. He's not … well, he's not you. You are, and have always been, a wonderful man. This doesn't change that."

"But you aren't in love with _me._ " It was a statement, really - a question to which he thought he'd divined the answer months ago.

She sighed, then hung her head. "No, not anymore. I love you, Charles – I'll _always_ love you, and I do love Daisy, regardless of what you and she may honestly think, but I've _changed_ , Charles. This life of mine, this career - it's altered me."

"You know, Daisy thinks you adore her," he reassured her, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "So don't worry about that."

"Good, because I _do_. I know this whole mess is down to me, and there's nothing you've done wrong. But I know myself, and I know that I'm not happy when I'm here."

"And he makes you happy? This other man?"

She nodded.

"For how long?" he asked again. "I'm sorry, but I think you owe that to me, given that he's responsible for your … epiphany."

"Yes," Alice conceded. "A year, maybe less. Not much less."

"And his name?"

She barked out a laugh. "Oddly enough, his name is Charlie."

"Of course it is," Charles whispered. "That's just great."

Alice rose from the bed and headed toward the door, stopping briefly to turn around and say, "I won't fight you for custody, but I want to see her. I want to see my child, Charles - I won't give her to you completely."

"Nor should you," he whispered, "because it would kill her to feel she wasn't wanted."

Alice nodded, then turned and left, shutting the door softly behind her and saying a silent prayer of thanks that Daisy was still asleep in bed when she peeked in on her.

* * *

Alice moved out about a month later, at the beginning of November. Daisy was having a very hard time, and Charles spent days upon days consoling her, trying to make her realize it was not her fault that her parents were splitting up. Neither he nor Alice had told Daisy about the other man, a decision that had required no discussion whatsoever.

After eight more weeks - which included a rather awkward Christmas celebration that involved all three Carsons dining out at a restaurant with Robert and Cora - Daisy started to turn a corner. She got into the routine of visiting her Mummy at her new flat, and somehow she still managed to do well in school.

Eventually she did meet 'the other Charlie,' as she called him. He was rather a funny man, and did things like juggling and singing silly songs to make her laugh. She didn't really want to tell her Papa the truth when he asked about it, but she knew she couldn't lie.

"I liked him," she said with trepidation.

But her Papa gave her a warm smile, happy that the experience had gone well for her. "I'm glad," he said, and he meant it. The hurt was beginning to dissipate, and it did help Charles that Daisy wasn't unhappy when visiting her mother and 'the other Charlie.' In place of the love he'd felt for Alice, however, a lonely ache was taking up residence in his heart.

Spring led to summer again and things seemed to settle. Alice had filed for a divorce by that point, and Charles could see no point in stretching things out any longer. He still felt acutely that small space in his heart in which he mourned the loss of his marriage, but he busied himself with work on the weekends that Daisy spent with Alice and felt that, at last, his family was beginning to heal. Perhaps they weren't together, but they had managed to remain friends, and Charles realized _that_ counted for quite a lot.

Ironically, Alice became a much better parent now that she had moved out, taking a vested interest in spending time with her daughter on those weekends they spent together. All in all, Charles thought, it may not have been the worst way for things to have unfolded. As Daisy celebrated the end of the school year, both she and Charles finally felt that they were back to some semblance of normalcy.

Until July … the eighth, to be exact; Charles would remember the date as long as he lived. He and Daisy had settled at the dining table so that he could help her with some maths, a constant source of struggle for her, and something he insisted on tutoring her in to prepare her for next year's class. The doorbell rang, startling them both, and he pulled out his pocket watch.

"At this hour? Who on earth can that be?"

"I'll get it!" Daisy shouted, happy for the reprieve from word problems that made no sense. She ran to the door and opened it, and saw two police detectives on the front step.

"Well, hello there," the older of the two asked, removing his hat. "Is your Papa home?"

"Daisy?" Charles called, heading down the front hallway. "Who …" He never finished the question, as the answer was plainly obvious once he saw who was on the stoop. "May I help you?"

"Charles Carson?" the older man asked. "I'm Detective Sergeant Merton, and this is Detective Constable Nugent. May we come in?" The look on the man's face told Charles there could only be one reason for their presence on his doorstep.

"No," he whispered. "It can't be." Charles was struggling to breathe, and Daisy was looking back and forth between her Papa and the detectives on the stoop, working out that something bad was happening but not able to make sense of it all yet.

"Mr. Carson, this will be easier if you let us come in."

Charles finally nodded and extended his arm, indicating for them to pass through. It was the tremor in his hand that first caused Daisy to be frightened - that, and the tightness with which his other hand grasped hers as they led their guests to the sitting room.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Carson," the older one - _Merton,_ he recalled- said after they'd sat down. "There's been an accident involving your wife."

"We're separated," he uttered, not sure how he was managing even to speak. "She doesn't live here anymore."

The detectives looked at each other briefly, and then DC Nugent spoke. "Be that as it may, this was the address on her vehicle registration."

"She must have forgotten to change it. Only that's not like her…" Charles took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid this isn't making much sense. Yes, Alice is technically still my wife. We've been separated for several months, and our divorce is pending. She's been living in a flat in London."

"I see. But you're still her next of kin."

 _Next of kin. Oh, oh my GOD …_ A chill ran through his entire body and Charles just stared at these men who'd invaded his happy home, trying to swallow and breathe normally. His eyes darted to Daisy and back again, indicating that the detectives should tread very carefully with their words.

"Yes, _we_ are," he said meaningfully. He wished there were some way to ask them to not say what they'd come to say, but he realized the futility.

"We are so very sorry, Mr. Carson, to be bringing this news. Mrs. Carson was involved in a motor vehicle accident about two hours ago. No other vehicles were involved, but she ran her car off the road in the rain. I'm sorry to say, but she didn't survive."

Charles nodded slowly, then extended his arm around Daisy's shoulders. But Daisy ripped herself away from him and jumped off the couch.

"No! My Mummy is _not dead!_ " she shouted at the detectives. "You're _lying!"_

"Daisy!" Charles called. "I'm sorry," he said, apologizing to the two men for her outburst.

"It's fine," DC Nugent assured them. "This the worst part of our job, believe me. But we'll need for you to come down to the station tomorrow, if at all possible."

"Oh, heavens, no … I'm not sure that I can," Charles whispered.

DS Merton understood immediately. "Mr. Carson," he said softly, "we are positive that the woman in the crash was, indeed, your wife. We've no need for …" he looked briefly at Daisy, who was sobbing on the floor, "... _clarification_ of that," he added tactfully. "We simply need you to come for her belongings and discuss arrangements with someone at the station. We've a social worker on staff who will help you through everything."

"I see," he said softly. The detectives rose from their seats, and Charles did the same. He moved over toward where Daisy was seated and crouched down beside her.

"Daisy, love, you've got to get up. They're leaving."

" _Mummy,_ " she whispered, her voice already raw from emotion.

"I know, petal," he said, reaching down and picking her up as he used to do when she was younger, quite grateful at the moment that she was still a tiny slip of a girl. She positively clung to him, managing to wrap her arms and legs around him as she sobbed onto his shoulder.

"You have our deepest condolences, Mr. Carson - and Daisy," DS Merton said. He paused, and then reached his hand out to pat Daisy's shoulder gently. He had four granddaughters living with him at home, and it broke his heart in two to have to bring this kind of news to a child.

"Thank you," Daisy managed.

They were the last words she'd speak to anyone but Charles for the next several months.

* * *

 **I'm sorry. I broke my own heart writing this bit, I don't mind confessing. Please leave a note and let me know what you thought. Robert and Edith should appear in the next chapter!**


	3. A Big Move

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! I am BLOWN AWAY by your reviews and support - my heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you for the reblogs on tumblr and the follows here.**

 **Posting two updates today as I'll be away for a few days.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **August 7, 2014**_

Charles walked into the café and scanned the room. Finding Robert tucked away in the corner, he gave a small wave as he weaved through the throng of customers.

"There you are!" Robert stood and held his hand out. Charles shook it firmly and took the empty chair across from his friend.

"I thought I'd never get out of that office! I know I'm an attorney myself and so I should have expected it but, honestly, the paperwork I've filled out this afternoon alone!" He leaned back in his chair and added a bit of sugar to his tea before taking a tentative sip.

"Nothing like tea to soothe the nerves," Robert said with a chuckle. "Unless you're Cora, of course."

"Oh heavens - please don't ever give me cheap coffee in a takeaway cup. _Americans_ ," Charles muttered with a knowing smirk.

"Yes, but I'll forgive her that slight. Now, how did it all go?"

"Fairly well, I think. Alice's estate is just about settled. I've inherited her business, as you know, but it's already being sold. I think that Braithwaite woman is buying it, actually."

"The one who wanted to be Alice's business partner? She's awfully young," Robert commented.

"Yes, but _ruthless_. I never liked her, personally, but the money from the sale will go into a trust for Daisy. If Braithwaite can come up with the funds, I'm happy to let her have it. And Grigg didn't show up for anything, which was a blessing."

"Probably out of fear for his safety," Robert grumbled.

Charles leaned back in his chair, pondering his friend's words. "Possibly. I can't help feeling sorry for the man, though. Alice was his meal ticket, being his agent _and_ bringing financial security to their relationship. And he was clearly broken up about her death. I think he truly did love her, and he was kind to Daisy."

"And the rest of it?"

"Well," Charles said, "the movers are set. They're coming tomorrow to finish packing up what we're taking from the house, and I've filled out all of the forms for everything. They weren't happy about the piano, but I'm certainly paying enough for them to take exceptionally good care of it. Edith and Marigold are meeting us at the airport when we arrive in Massachusetts, then driving us up from there. The rest of it will get settled after we arrive, I suppose."

"It's a big move, going to the US."

"I know. I just …" Charles pursed his lips, the pain evident on his face. "We need a change, Robert. Something where we're not reminded of it all every time we're in London, or every time we look at something in the house: her bookshelves, her old office." _Her bedroom, the clothes she never had a chance to take with her, the hat boxes in the attic …_ "Daisy still cringes every time the doorbell sounds."

"I'm sure it's hard. Like losing her twice, as you've said before. I'm so sorry, Charles. I still have no words that feel adequate to help with any of that."

"You and Cora have helped _plenty,_ and I am truly grateful. I'd come to terms with the fact that Alice was unhappy years ago. Once she moved out, I realized how much of my life had been spent trying to keep everything at an even keel, trying to make her happy. But it's impossible to move on when we're still surrounded by her presence."

"Well, we've been worried about you, mate. How's Daisy?"

Charles heaved a deep sigh. "Alright, I think. Excited. Sad that I've sold the place, as it's the only home she's ever known, but I think she's looking forward to the adventure of it all. Having Marigold there will help, of course, not to mention your girls. Daisy trusts you all, and it's been such a relief to have you and Cora pitching in to help when I've had meetings and such."

"She still won't _speak_ to anyone but you, though." Robert's concern was clear, and Charles appreciated it. It was his favorite thing about his best friend - the clear empathy he showed for others who were experiencing hard times. Robert had been everyone's best mate in school, the one who would liven up a room no matter what the circumstances; over time he'd mellowed a bit, and now he was just a very caring friend.

"No," Charles admitted, "except for that counselor at school but, in my opinion, he's not much help."

"So you've said. And Edith tells me the counselor at _her_ school is terrific. I believe it's worth a try. But we'll miss you, old chap."

"You can always visit," Charles answered with a smile. "Two of your daughters _are_ already there, after all. I know we'll see you at Christmas, and perhaps we'll come back over for a visit in the summer. I'm not sure I'll be able to handle a New England summer."

"' _New_ _England'_ ," Robert chuckled. "Apt, for you."

"That it is." Charles finished his tea. "We'll see you for dinner tomorrow, then? Our last hurrah before the big move on Saturday."

"We'll be there."

Both men stood, then made their way out into the late-afternoon sunshine. Robert patted Charles on the back firmly, saying, "We're happy for you, mate, but we really _are_ going to miss you terribly."

"Thank you for that," Charles answered quietly. "It means a lot to me."

"I'm sure the girls will watch out for you. Mary's been in touch about the house, I imagine? She told me it's all set for your arrival."

Charles nodded. "Yes, she texted me this morning. 'All sparkling and ready,' she wrote. I really appreciate her doing this for us. The photos look amazing, and it was such a blessing that it's already partway furnished."

"It _is_ amazing, Charles. Beach front land, a large property, easy access to town. It's a wonderful community - it must be, for both Mary _and_ Edith to be willing to live in the same place once again," he joked. "But it is lovely."

"I just hate being indebted to Carlisle," Charles muttered.

"Oh, you're not," Robert said, his eyes widening. "You mean you didn't know? Mary and Mama actually own the house, in equal halves."

Charles laughed aloud, his deep, booming voice startling the women who were passing them on the sidewalk.

"Let me guess. Wedding gift from Violet?" He knew a bit about wedding gifts from Violet, after all.

"Sort of," Robert admitted. "Let's just say Mama doesn't trust Richard any more than you do. She wanted to be sure Mary had a fall-back plan, and a source of her own income in the meantime."

"Well, I do feel better about that. You've been such a help to my daughter … now, I can't help but feel that I'm returning the favor."

They shook hands again as Robert hailed a taxi. "See you Saturday, old mate."

"See you then."

* * *

 _ **August 14, 2014**_

Saturday came and went. The house was now empty, and Charles and Daisy had spent the last four evenings in an hotel in London. They took the opportunity to revisit all of their favorite places, taking pictures and just enjoying being together.

Daisy's demeanor was different when she was alone with her Papa, something that warmed his heart completely. He knew she needed help and was hoping their move would be the right spark to ignite her progress. Since hearing of her mother's accident, she'd been suffering from what her counselor called 'traumatic mutism" - speaking only in a whisper, and only to Charles. The doctors had assured him that this type of thing was not unheard of and that, with proper counseling, care, support, she could recover. The more Charles learned about the characteristics of it, the more it made sense; mutism was much more common in children whose parents suffered from anxiety or depression, both of which had plagued Alice from the time she was a teenager. Daisy had always been shy and a bit nervous around new situations, but this was completely eclipsed by the discomfort she now felt about everything in general. She was, however, eager to see what life in the US would bring; she was as interested in leaving that terrible July night behind as Charles was.

Their flight was uneventful, and both Carsons slept most of the way, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the past several weeks. Neither could wait to get to Maine, see Edith and Marigold, and just take some time to visit the beautiful beaches and farmland they'd seen in all of Mary's photos. Daisy was nervous about her new school, but having Edith and Marigold there calmed her anxiety somewhat. For his part, Charles was hoping to set up his office rather quickly. He'd left someone in charge of his firm in London, and he was all set up to work from home. He'd be a consultant on the cases still pending, and had connected with a few international colleagues to get set up in the US as well. Other than the potential of travel to New York or Chicago once or twice a year, he hoped to spend most of his time home with his daughter.

As the plane began its descent in Boston, Daisy looked with awe out the window.

"Papa! There are so many buildings … and look at the water!" she whispered excitedly.

"I know, but this is Boston. Once we're in Maine, the water will be the same, perhaps, but the city won't be there. The area we are going to is more like your grandparents' home in England: a good deal of farmland, and smaller cities and communities."

"And Misty Cove is small?"

"That it is. It's a very quaint community. There are two schools, the town newspaper, some shopping areas, and not much else. It's a big area for lobster fishing, though - you'll enjoy lobster, I think," he said, reaching over to ruffle her hair a bit. She looked up at him and gave a trepidatious smile and a tiny nod. It was a lot of change, but she was comforted by the fact that her Papa would be by her side through it all, and she was excited to see Marigold again, too. They were almost the same age, and Daisy secretly hoped it would be like having a sister nearby. She might even speak to Marigold, she thought … after a while.

As they made their way into the terminal, Daisy clutched tightly to Charles's hand. He ran his thumb across the top of her hand, soothing her with his touch and calm demeanor. They tried to make their way through the mass of other passengers when, suddenly, they heard a very clear voice.

"Uncle Charlie! Daisy!" Charles looked over to see Edith waving furiously.

"Edith! Ah, it's so good to see you!" He opened his arms to hug her, and smiled as she kissed his cheek.

"Welcome to New England! Marigold," she said, "do you remember -?"

"Daisy!" Marigold shouted, tackling Daisy in a bear hug. "Of course, Mama," she added as an afterthought. She turned her attentions back to her 'cousin.' "How was the plane ride? Did you like it?"

Daisy smiled and shrugged a shoulder, looking up at Charles.

"It was quite nice, thank you, Marigold, but we are anxious to get to Maine," he told her.

"Let's head down to get your bags, then," Edith offered. "It's about a three-hour drive, so I thought we'd have something to eat locally and then drive up afterward. We'd arrive around seven tonight, if that works?"

"That's perfect," Charles said. "It'll be nice to get there and have time to explore the house a bit before we collapse."

"Alright, then," she said, leading the way to baggage claim.

"Where will we be eating?"

Edith looked at him and smiled. "The British Beer Company," she chuckled.

"You're joking, yes?" Charles asked, slightly horrified.

"Nope. Not at all."

* * *

To his surprise, Charles was pleased when he saw the restaurant, despite his typical dislike of chains. Daisy managed the conversation as she usually did: she'd whisper in Charles's ear if she wanted something communicated to Edith or Marigold; otherwise, she used a series of nods and head-shaking to get her point across. Thankfully, Edith had planned for difficulties in conversation and had brought along an iPad for the girls to play with as they waited for their meals to arrive. Edith used the time to give Charles some information about the school Daisy would be attending - where Edith was, despite her young age, the principal.

"We've about four hundred students," she told him, "in kindergarten through eighth grade. Kindergarten is full-day and is not state mandated, but most children attend. It's a farming and fishing community, and the parents really need their children to be somewhere so that they can work. We run an after-school program where the students can do homework, and that's staffed by volunteers and aides. It works well, I think."

Charles smiled at her across the table. "That's quite impressive," he praised. "You've been principal for two years?"

Edith nodded. "Yes. Quite young for a principal, I know, but I intend to stay for quite a long time. We love it here, Charlie. I've quite a wonderful staff at the school, which makes the job easy. Parents are mostly supportive - it's a job from heaven, truly."

"How many classes are there in each year?"

"The staff work in teams of two in each grade, sharing roughly forty-five students total. The older grades have slightly fewer, because some of the children choice out to the neighboring district for the sports they offer. Most teams, such as in Daisy's grade, are comprised of one person who teaches English and Social Studies while the other teaches Mathematics and Science. The staff get to know the students very well, but of course they already know many of them just from living in a small town. It's hard to keep secrets in Misty Cove, I'll tell you that. It can be a blessing _and_ a curse, of course," she added, "but we make it work."

"And we'll be able to tour the building on Wednesday?"

Edith nodded. "Yes, I think that would be best. The staff are returning Monday for in-service meetings to start the year off, and then they'll spend the rest of the week meeting with their grade-level counterparts, planning and setting up their classrooms. It'll be a good time to get a tour of the building - which isn't terribly complicated to navigate, with only two main corridors - and Daisy can get to know everyone. I don't have them in any meetings Wednesday, and I should be free enough to show you around."

"And this Miss Baxter will be available?" Charles asked.

"Of course. She's already expecting you." Edith reached over and patted his hand. "She's very kind, I think you'll both like her immensely. She's quite accomplished at what she does, and why she's not working for a larger district is a mystery to me, but I'm lucky to have her. She works closely with myself, the Assistant Principal, and the school nurse. We meet weekly to discuss any issues that may arise, and are in regular contact about her caseload."

"And is it a large caseload?"

"More than you'd think," Edith replied, a look of sadness passing over her features. "We're a small town, but that doesn't mean we have fewer issues. On the contrary, I think sometimes they seem greater simply because everyone knows everyone else. It's harder to hide, and that can be difficult for some people. But rest assured - there's plenty of room for Daisy in the fray."

"Well, that does make me feel better," Charles admitted. "The last counselor was knowledgeable, but he really didn't have any personal skills beyond just listening. I was appalled at the lack of communication between that staff, frankly. It was the biggest push to move, aside from the … well, the other things."

"I'm sure that Daisy will like Miss Baxter. She has a couple of suggestions that would likely be things Daisy will enjoy, if given the chance," she added cryptically. Charles raised an eyebrow in question, but Edith noticed Daisy paying attention and shook her head slightly. _Tell you later,_ her eyes said.

The food arrived and the iPad was sequestered back in Edith's handbag. Each of the girls dug into their meals with gusto, and shared bites with one another. Charles and Edith both marveled over their immediate closeness. The last time they'd visited they were four years old but to see them today, it appeared as though they'd never been separated.

"You've been well?" Charles enquired, and Edith nodded.

"Yes, we have." She looked thoughtfully at Daisy as she sipped her drink. "It used to feel as though it would never get better, but it has."

"Well, your situation _was_ different from mine," Charles said softly.

"Perhaps," Edith allowed, "but Marigold and Daisy will always have that in common, having lost a parent."

"I miss Papa," Marigold said suddenly. "I know how Daisy feels about Auntie Alice. It's really sad sometimes."

Daisy's bottom lip quivered, and Charles grasped her hand under the table. "There, there, petal," he whispered, placing a kiss to her head. "It's alright to be sad, you know." But she just shook her head, wiping furiously at her eyes in her embarrassment.

"Give it time," Edith murmured. "Let's see what the new school year brings."

* * *

 **Reviews make me sing, and I'm not too proud to beg for them. :) xx**


	4. Birds of A Feather

**A/N: Okay, folks - this is the SECOND update today, so if you haven't read Chapter 3 yet (with Charles and Daisy's arrival in the US) then back on up and check that one out first! :)**

 **In this chapter, my American readers will recognize some typical children's shopping locations, if you have kids anyhow. Charles's reaction to the first one was my reaction the first time I was forced to shop there. Ew. lol**

 **This will be my last update for a few days, so please accept my apologies in advance. Much love to all you kind souls who are leaving reviews for this fic, I'm completely blown away by them all, truly. xxx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **August 20, 2014**_

" _Please_ be careful with that!" Charles shouted, cringing as the movers struggled with the placement of the piano.

"Would you like it centered in front of the window?" one asked, gasping for breath.

Charles looked to Daisy, who nodded. "Yes," he answered aloud.

The rest of the furniture that had been shipped over was already set in place, and once the piano was repositioned and the forms signed, Charles and Daisy headed out for the day.

"Are we going to the mall?" Daisy asked excitedly.

"Yes, I suppose we must," Charles answered. "We'll go to the places Auntie Edith told us about, hm? You're growing too fast, you know," he added. "Good thing you think it's fun to buy clothes."

"Then we can see my new school."

He nodded. "Yes - and don't forget, you'll have to call Edith 'Ms. Crawley' when you're at school."

Daisy just giggled. "That sound so _silly,_ Papa. But I will."

Charles pulled off the highway and found the mall with the aid of his GPS. He found a spot in the shade and parked, reminding himself once again that he needed to obtain his own vehicle sooner rather than later. This one they'd borrowed from Mary was fine, but it was a bit small for his six-foot-plus frame. He pressed the button to lock the car and set the alarm, then took Daisy's hand as they headed through the Food Court entrance.

Charles felt a tug on his arm and looked in the direction that she was pointing.

 _No …_ he thought. _She can't be serious._

"Papa, there it is," she whispered excitedly.

 _She's serious. Oh, Lord give me strength._

"That's it - Marigold said they have _lots_ of pink and glittery things. Let's go!" She practically pulled him into the store, and he felt momentarily blinded.

"Welcome to _Justice,_ " the much-too-perky salesgirl chirped. "Is this your first time here?"

"Good guess," Charles smirked. He looked down at Daisy. "You have twenty minutes, young lady."

She let go of his hand and tore off in the direction of the brightest display of things Charles had ever seen.

 _Fabulous._

Twenty-three minutes later, Charles found himself the proud carrier of two drawstring bags full of pink, purple, fuzzy, and glittery tops and a handful of pairs of jeans.

"Please tell me we're done?" he pleaded.

"No, Papa. I need Marigold's boots and _that's_ where they came from." She pointed across the mall to _The Children's Place,_ a storefront that Charles found almost as revolting as the one he'd just escaped … but, he silently allowed, a bit less fluorescent.

"Of course you do," he whimpered, causing her to laugh hysterically. "This isn't fair, you know. You're actually _enjoying_ my pain. Since when did you become so interested in clothes, anyhow?"

"Papa! It's not that bad. Please?"

He sighed, looking into those big, blue eyes that he knew he could never deny. And she was right - she _did_ need some shoes that actually fit. "Fine, lead on."

By the time they got back to the car, Daisy was on cloud nine. Charles just had a headache.

"Off to the school now, petal. I hope you're as happy about that as you were about the shopping."

She just shook her head and yawned. As Charles pulled out of the parking lot, he caught Daisy's reflection in the rear-view mirror and saw her sit back in her seat and start to doze off.

 _Poor thing. It's been a busy few weeks._ He put the radio on and found a classical station, then put the GPS setting on mute and mounted his phone to the windshield so that he'd still see it but it wouldn't bother Daisy.

Thirty minutes later they pulled in at the school. Charles reached into the back seat and shook Daisy's leg until she woke up.

"Papa? Are we there?"

"We are," he said quietly. He watched as his little girl reached up and rubbed her eyes, noting the red mark on her forehead where it had been resting against the window. Her hair was a bit mussed and she yawned hugely; it occurred to him in that very moment, as it often did at the strangest times, just how much he loved his little girl. He just stared at her for a moment, and she caught him out.

"What is it, Papa?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "I just love you, petal."

"I love you, too, Papa. Can we go in now?"

"Of course," he answered.

* * *

Sarah looked at the video monitor in annoyance when it chimed its alert that someone was ringing the buzzer at the school's entrance. She didn't recognize either the man or the child, so she figured they must be the family Edith had mentioned. She held the release button down, and returned to her paperwork as soon as she saw the man reach for the handle and turn.

"Good afternoon," came the man's deep voice. Its depth startled Sarah, who looked up with interest.

"Hello. Mr. Carson, I presume? Ms. Crawley asked me to cover her here for the moment - she'll be right back." Edith had, in fact, gone to fetch coffee and tea for the four staff who'd been here since seven in the morning. _But this Mr. Carson doesn't need to know that,_ she thought.

"Yes, and thank you." He and Daisy sat on the chairs by the desk, and waited. After a few seconds, his ears picked up on the sound of music emanating from somewhere down the corridor. He wondered briefly if it was on during the school year, or only when the building was empty of students.

Two minutes later the doorbell chirped again. Sarah pushed the button and then abruptly got up and headed into one of the other offices.

Daisy whispered into his ear, "She seems unkind."

"Daisy," Charles admonished, "don't be rude."

Daisy just nodded, thinking she hoped _that_ wasn't the 'Miss Baxter' Edith had told them about.

"Uncle Charlie!" Edith's voice sounded. "I'm glad you both made it. You survived your trip to the mall, then?" She smirked at him, knowing exactly what she and Marigold had talked him into. "Glitter, pre-teen rock, and neon aside, of course?"

"Yes, thank you for that," he said sarcastically, giving her a pointed look. "But, yes, this young lady should be well outfitted for the next several months." He had stood to reach for the tray of coffees, which Edith gladly handed over.

"Thank you," she breathed, still juggling a briefcase, a shopping tote, and her handbag. "I hate to make more than one trip if it's not necessary, but I think my wrist was about to fall off."

"You don't have someone else to send for coffee?" he asked, eyebrow raised.

Edith laughed. "That's not how I operate, Uncle Charlie," she said fondly. "I don't like to staff out errands when I've got the free time to do them myself. Besides," she added, grabbing the one of the two biggest cups out of the tray, " _I_ was the one who needed it the most."

"Coffee," he tut-tutted. "Already an American, I see."

"Ha! Don't knock it until you've tried it. Why don't you two come with me as I drop these off, and then we'll get you the necessary transfer paperwork?"

"Sound good," Charles asked, looking at Daisy. She nodded and gave him a little smile, excited to see the rest of her new school. She mouthed something at him, and he smiled. "I don't think so … Edith, is Marigold here?"

"No, I'm sorry, Daisy. But after I get out today, why don't I pick you up and bring you over to the house for an hour or two? Marigold is home with the babysitter, but she'd love to see you."

Charles took a deep breath, a bit concerned about that plan. "Perhaps, if she wants to, I should go along," he said.

But Daisy tugged on his hand and shook her head.

"I'll tell you what," Edith proposed to Daisy. "You and Marigold seemed to get along pretty well the other night, didn't you?" Daisy nodded. "Well, then, why don't we try it out," she said, glancing at Charles. "If you feel uncomfortable, Daisy, you can ... bring me Marigold's blue stuffed puppy that sits on her bed," she decided with an encouraging nod. "It'll be our little signal that you need your Papa to come over."

Daisy nodded again, beaming.

"Well, then," Charles said, "sounds like a plan. I need to start looking for a new vehicle, too. Maybe I could use the time for that," he pondered.

"Wonderful idea," Edith replied, heading into her office and plopping her bags on the desk. "I'll take that now," she added, indicating the tray.

"I've got it just fine, you just lead the way."

"Fine then - thank you. Alright, this little corridor heads to the other offices: school nurse, guidance counselor, teacher work space, and media storage." She stopped off in a tiny copy room, where the woman who'd been at the front desk when the Carsons arrived was running off a set of worksheets.

"Daisy, this is Miss O'Brien. She'll be one of your teachers this year!" Edith said brightly.

"Hello, Daisy," Sarah said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "Are you looking forward to starting in a new school?"

Daisy only nodded.

"Daisy doesn't speak much, Miss O'Brien," Edith explained carefully. "But I can assure you," she added with a smile to Daisy, "her marks from her other school were quite high, and she is a hard worker."

"Well, that's good then," Sarah replied. "I'll see you on Monday, then. You'll have me for English and Social Studies."

"Thank you, Miss O'Brien," Charles added, shaking the woman's hand. "I'm Charles Carson, Daisy's father. I am glad we had a chance to meet you today. It's been a rather eventful time for us, these past couple of months. It does help to meet you ahead of time ... takes away some of the unknown, you could say. And," he added, with a glance at Edith, "I think one of these cups is yours?"

"Of course!" Edith took the smallest cup off the tray and handed it to Sarah. "I hope it's not been steeping too long," she added, and Charles saw the tea bag tags hanging out of the paper cup. He tried not to shudder at the thought - stale tea leaves, in mass-produced bags, steeped in a paper cup. _How perfectly awful._

"It usually has been by the time I get my hands on it, but beggars can't be choosers," Sarah said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. We're off!" As Edith led the way, Charles noted they were at the nurse's office next - and the apparently source of the music he'd heard earlier.

"Ms. Hughes," Edith said, peeking her head into the office at a woman crouched down on the floor, her back to the door, evidently sorting something. "I have reinforcement in the form of caffeine!" She removed the other extra-large cup from the tray and placed it on the woman's desk.

"Oh, thank God," Ms. Hughes replied, not turning around. "Just give me a minute ... " She started muttering to herself, and Charles smiled at the clear, Scottish lilt to her voice. " _Barrow, MacGregor, Robinson, Williams … there!"_ She checked something off on a list and grabbed the countertop above her head, pulling herself up to a standing position and stretching as she turned around.

"Oh!" Ms. Hughes said, startled. "I didn't realize we had company! I'm so sorry," she added, flushing faintly.

"May I introduce Charles and Daisy Carson," Edith said, indicating them with a wave of her hand. "Charlie is my uncle - well, sort of - and Daisy is his daughter. I believe I told you about them last week?"

"Of course," the nurse said warmly, reaching her hand out to shake Daisy's. "I'm pleased to meet you, Daisy. Edith's daughter, Marigold, has spoken _very_ highly of you. I've no doubt you'll be thick as thieves," she added, a twinkle in her eye.

Daisy smiled brilliantly, nodding.

"And Mr. Carson," she said, turning her gaze to the father. Her breath caught in her throat for a minute as she took in his appearance: _tall, broad-chested, salt-and-pepper hair, quite nicely dressed .. oh, good heavens, Elsie._ "Pleased to meet you," she said after a few seconds, offering him her hand. "Elsie Hughes, school nurse. Obviously."

Charles shook her hand, noting that she gave quite a firm handshake - none of that flimsy, feminine business for this one. He met her starkingly brilliant, blue gaze, noted the auburn-colored, messy bun in which she'd tossed her hair and the cartoon-print scrub top she was wearing.

"Beethoven?" he uttered.

"I beg your par- _oh,_ yes," she said with a little laugh, "that it is. Are you a fan of classical music, Mr. Carson?"

"I'm a fan of _anything_ that isn't played in that mall I was victim to today," he said, earning a full laugh from the diminutive but adorable woman in front of him.

"Then we're birds of a feather," Elsie smirked, raising her eyebrow. She then realized she was staring at him and turned abruptly toward her desk, reaching for her coffee to give herself something to do. _What the hell is the MATTER with you, Elsie Hughes? Did you just FLIRT with a new parent?_

"And fellow countrymen," he added. "Do I detect a Renfrew accent?"

Elsie whipped back around to face him. "How on Earth did you know that, Mr. Carson?"

Charles laughed, a deep, full sound that Elsie found she rather liked. "My grandmother was from Paisley. You sound just like her. It's ... familiar, I suppose," he added lamely. _Comforting_ was the word that had actually come to his mind, but he dared not say _that_. "I've not heard it in quite a while. It's quite nice, to tell the truth."

"I see. Well, yes, you're right of course. I lived there until I was about seventeen, before moving to England and then, eventually, here. I don't often miss Scotland, to tell the truth, but when we have a good, deep rain here I sometimes feel as though I'm back again."

A brief look of sadness passed through her eyes, not unnoticed by Charles.

"And now _I_ need to stop rambling," she said, embarrassed, "as I am sure _you_ have other things to accomplish today."

"No, it's fine, _"_ Charles said quietly. "And I understand what you mean about being reminded of home."

She continued to stare at him despite all attempts not to, then sipped on her coffee to give herself something to do.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten." He said something to Daisy, who reached into the backpack she'd brought and pulled out her Epi-pen. She handed it to Charles, who checked to make sure it was the new one and handed it to Elsie. "We have this for you."

Elsie reached out for it and her fingertips brushed his hand. Charles felt something akin to an electric shock and pulled his hand away quickly, almost dropping the box.

"Tree nuts or bees?" Elsie asked, looking at Daisy. But the girl just shook her head and smiled.

"Neither," Charles said with a smirk. "Of all things, _peaches."_

Elsie's gaze shot back to Daisy's, startled. "Me, too," she said, and Daisy's eyes widened in disbelief.

"You're kidding!" Charles exclaimed, shaking his head. "And birch, too? That's what Daisy's is - birch-pollen allergy."*

"You know your allergies, Mr. Carson," Elsie said approvingly. "Yes, that's it exactly. But, oddly, I'm not allergic to anything else, such as apples or cherries, that many people with birch-pollen are. Well, just birch tree pollen, of course. How about you?" she asked Daisy, hoping that somehow this non-verbal girl would rescue Elsie from her own uncharacteristic chattiness.

Daisy shook her head quickly, then beckoned to her Papa. He crouched down and tilted his head to her, and Elsie's heart warmed as Daisy's hands grasped his head so that she could whisper in his ear.

Charles chuckled and whispered, "Is that necessary?" But Daisy only nodded, so he stood back up and looked at Elsie sheepishly. "Daisy is happy to hear that, and would like you to know - for what I am sure are her own good reasons - that cherries are her favorite fruit." He shook his head a bit, wondering why in the world he had to communicate that particular bit of information.

"Well, Daisy, that's good then," the nurse said to her, "because I make an award-winning cherry tart."

The girl's eyes lit up with excitement, and all three adults laughed.

"Uncle Charlie is rather partial to sweets of _any_ kind, so I'd watch out around him," Edith joked, noting how her comment made Elsie flush. "Alright, then, we've still got to head down and see Phyllis - Miss Baxter," she explained to the Carsons.

"Well, I thank you for the coffee _and_ the introduction," Elsie said warmly. "I'm leaving around four o'clock - do you need me to lock up, Edith?"

"If you would, please," Edith said gratefully. "I'm out at three-thirty and, apparently, supervising a play date," she said, smiling at Daisy.

"Sounds good," Elsie said. "It was a pleasure meeting you both, Mr. Carson," she added, extending her hand out to Charles once again, who shook it gratefully and wondered somewhere in the back of his mind why that made him so very happy.

"It's Charles - please," he said.

"And I'm Elsie," she replied with a smile. "It's a small town … I'm sure I'll be seeing you driving or walking about soon."

"Well, I've got to go shopping for a new car today, so hopefully you _do_ see me driving about."

"Oh? Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really, no," he said. "Have you a suggestion?"

"All-wheel drive," she chuckled, "if you ever want to get out of your driveway come winter, that is."

"I'll take that under advisement. Thank you, Ms. Hughes." _How does she know where we live?_

"Elsie," she reminded him.

"Elsie, then," he said softly, completely oblivious to the smile that was appearing on Edith's face as she watched this exchange.

Elsie nodded, then turned to sit at her desk as the other three headed off to the guidance area. She plopped down in the chair, then opened the lid and took a huge sip of coffee.

 _Well, well … what an interesting man._ She picked up Daisy's Epi-pen and twirled the box in her hand, already planning a trip to the farmstand for fresh cherries.

 _A fresh-baked tart IS a nice 'welcome to the neighborhood' gift, Elsie. And given that they've just moved in next door to you, you really SHOULD bring something by._

The thought made her stomach flutter.

* * *

 ****Birch pollen allergy is common to people of Northern European descent. I have a Scottish friend who has it, and is only allergic to peach and apple skin – nothing else usually associated with it – and once the fruits and skins are cooked, the threat of anaphylaxis disappears. Weird, huh?**


	5. Happy Here

**A/N: Okay, I'm back! And my apologies, because this Chapter 5 should have actually been the END of a very long Chapter 4.**

 **I AM IN AWE of your reviews. Seriously, folks, unbelievable! I always try to respond to everyone individually, but for all of you who review as guests please know that I value those words just as much as all the ones to which I can reply. (And please consider setting up a account so that I can do so!)**

 **One final note: the timing of these chapters in the overall story is a bit odd. Some days will be covered over three or four chapters, and then I may skip a month entirely. The story, when put together, will cover scenes over the course of about a year. THIS one is the continuation of the Carsons' tour of the school in Misty Cove.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **August 20, 2014, cont'd.**_

"Miss Baxter?" Edith knocked on her door and opened it slowly.

"Hello," came Miss Baxter's quiet voice. "Come in, please."

Edith held the door open and Charles and Daisy headed in. Charles took one look around and determined that Miss Baxter must be _very_ good at her job.

The stark, cinder-block walls had been painted a pale blue color. On the wall were an assortment of posters - some were motivational, while others showed movies, cartoons, and photos of peaceful nature scenes. Several plants dotted the open space, and he noted that Miss Baxter's desk was tucked away in a corner, giving more space to the table and chairs she had out (for parent meetings, he presumed) and for the bean bag chairs set in the corner. He could hear what sounded like a water fountain, but realized as he spotted the origin of the sound that it was a hexagonal fish tank, with a variety of neon-colored creatures swimming about.

Daisy headed immediately to the bean bag chair area, where an assortment of books and art supplies were stored on the corner shelf. She looked up at Miss Baxter, who smiled kindly and nodded.

"Feel free, please," she said, waving her hand at the things. "Everything in that corner is for students to use if they so choose. Do you like to read, Daisy?"

She nodded in reply, and looked to her Papa.

"Daisy loves to read - she's quite ahead for her age," he said proudly, "and quite a good artist as well."

"Well, then," Miss Baxter said, "why don't you make yourself comfortable there while your father fills out some boring paperwork for me?"

Daisy scrunched up her nose at the word boring, and turned without another thought to peruse the books that filled the bins on the shelves.

"What a lovely area for the children, Miss Baxter," Charles marveled. "It's quite … homey."

"That's the idea," Miss Baxter said, reaching to shake his hand. "And it's Phyllis, please. Only the children call me Miss Baxter."

"Charles Carson," he said, shaking her delicate hand. "Now, let's get this horrid paperwork out of the way, shall we?"

"I'm going to leave you to it," Edith said. "Daisy, I'll be leaving in about an hour. Would you like to just come home with me, and your Papa can get on with his car shopping?"

Daisy looked to Charles in question.

"It's up to you, petal. Do you want to go with Edith directly?"

She thought about it and nodded, then turned back to her book.

"That's settled, then," Edith said warmly. "Dinner is at six - please join us if you're finished by then, Uncle Charlie." She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a kiss to his cheek. "I'm so glad you're both here."

Charles and Phyllis bid her goodbye, and Charles handed Phyllis the coffee tray. "I believe this last one is yours," he said. "Is that … iced coffee?"

"It is - caramel swirl," she said, taking the cup gratefully and tossing the cardboard tray into a bin of odd objects. "Art supplies," she added, answering his questioning look, "for when the children are feeling especially creative."

"I see - very nice." Charles turned toward the corner where Daisy had tucked herself in, having chosen to draw instead of read.

He turned his gaze back to the counselor. "I think she's going to like it here," he said. "Daisy hasn't been this comfortable in a school environment in quite a while, particularly not with a counselor."

"I take that as high praise, then," Phyllis answered. "We do our best. Edith has done a remarkable job since she started here. She truly loves the children. The entire building is a tribute to that. The school itself is quite old, but she amassed a group of volunteers from town to come in last summer and paint the place. She said it looked 'sterile,' and that it was a school and not a run-down hospital. Paid for supplies out of her own pocket."

"That doesn't surprise me in the least," Charles said. "I've known her all her life, and she's one of the kindest people I've _ever_ known."

"I agree. Once we're done here, I'll give you a tour of the rest of the school, if you like."

They spent the next half hour filling out transfer forms and going through Daisy's records from her school in London, as well as her medical file which Charles had also thought to bring along. The counselor in London had taken the time to write a letter in which he explained his thoughts about Daisy's reluctance to speak. Charles heard Phyllis hum now and then as she read her way through it, furrowing her brow a couple of times as she flipped back and forth from the letter to the medical forms, clearly in disagreement with something.

"What is it?" Charles asked quietly, well aware that Daisy was still in the room.

"Perhaps nothing, and I'm hesitant to discount a colleague's professional opinion on someone I've never met, but … well, I suppose we'll see." She laid the letter down on the table and looked at Charles. "I assume you've read this letter?"

"I have," he grumbled. "I was … unimpressed."

"Quite right," Phyllis replied. "Let's just say I have a slightly more optimistic view on Daisy's reluctance to speak."

Daisy looked up as she heard this, a question on her pale face. Charles noted that she didn't look afraid, merely curious.

"Yes, Daisy," Phyllis said softly, "I believe that we can work together to help you to find your voice again. Would you like that?"

Daisy nodded and broke out into a hesitant smile, then turned back to her drawing.

"Thank you," Charles whispered, fighting back tears and grateful that his back was to his daughter. "It's been a very long road, and a difficult journey at that."

"I'm sure," Phyllis responded. "We'll need to do an evaluation of Daisy once the school year begins, and formulate a plan for her education. She'll need accommodations if she's non-verbal in the classroom, to make sure that her teachers treat her fairly despite her disability."

"It's not a disability," Charles argued.

"Well, in the eyes of the law, it _is,_ but please don't worry - that's actually a good thing and will work in Daisy's favor.

"I don't mean to stigmatize her reluctance to speak to anyone but you, Mr. Carson, but we need adequate terminology to ensure that Daisy has the support she needs in the classroom in order to thrive. I'm guessing her testing won't show her in need of a special education plan, and we'll have to make accommodations through the guidance department instead. She'll likely qualify for what's known as a 504 Accommodation Plan, which requires teachers to make certain accommodations in the classroom so that Daisy can participate fully to the best of her ability. It will include a list of things like the use of an iPad to help her with communicating. There's an app where she can select from certain images to communicate her ideas, and a spot where she can use a stylus to write notes as well."

"That's marvelous - I had no idea that even existed."

"Yes, it's a fantastic tool. I can tell from her school records that Daisy struggles a bit in mathematics, too. Have you met Mr. Molesley yet?"

"No, but we did briefly encounter Miss O'Brien in the office when we arrived."

"Ah, yes ... Sarah. Well, Mr. Molesley is the teacher for Math and Science. He's quite soft-spoken and kind, and very willing to help the children with whatever they need. He's non-threatening, and has a manner with which I think Daisy will be very comfortable."

"Good."

Phyllis and Charles rose from the table and Charles headed over to the corner, crouching down next to his darling daughter. "What are you drawing, poppet?" he asked softly.

Daisy moved her hands so that he could see the paper, and his heart flipped in his chest; he saw a picture of himself, holding Daisy's hand as they stood by the sea … with a heart in the sky in the shape of a cloud, and an angel floating near it.

"Is that Mummy?" he whispered.

Daisy nodded, then reached up to whisper in his ear. "She's happy that we like it here, Papa."

"So am I, love."

Phyllis watched the scene in awe, blown over by the tender love this big bear of a man had for his daughter, the gentle way he had that was in direct opposition to his large size and deep voice. She heard a soft gasp behind her and turned to look in the hallway, where she saw Elsie standing with a piece of paper in her hand. The look on the nurse's face gave her away completely - she was as touched as Phyllis by the scene into which she'd just entered.

"Elsie?" Phyllis asked, causing Charles and Daisy to look up.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Elsie said, "but I forgot to give you this." She crossed the room and handed the paper to Charles. "It's the form for Daisy's emergency information. Could you fill it out and bring it in on the first day of school?"

"Of course," he answered, standing up with some difficulty from his crouched-down position. "Thank you," he added, taking the form from her. "I'll do that. See you next week, then?"

"Next week, Mr. Carson," she nodded.

"Charles," he reminded her.

She nodded shyly and headed back to her office.

Phyllis took the Carsons on a brief tour of the rest of the school. Charles was stunned at the age of the building; it certainly didn't _look_ like a school built in the 1970's. The walls were painted in clean pastels, with tack boards lining the corridors. Messages like 'Welcome Back!' and 'Reach for the stars!' decorated them now but he guessed that, as the year went on, student work would be taking their place.

"This is where your classrooms are, Daisy. Oh, good - Mr. Molesley's still here."

Phyllis opened the door and Daisy passed through, looking around the room at an assortment of oddities: a constellation mobile hanging from the ceiling, a plastic skeleton hanging in the corner, an enormous wasp nest resting on the shelf. There were colorful posters showing mathematical operations being demonstrated by Snoopy and Sponge Bob … and, on the wall over the desk … a group of Minions surrounding a familiar-looking man _._ Daisy's eyes widened and she turned to her Papa and pointed to the poster.

"Mr. Molesley, this is Daisy Carson. She'll be joining your team this year and, I'm guessing, she's a _Despicable Me_ fan?" Phyllis said by way of introduction.

"The first, not the second," Charles clarified, reaching out to shake the teacher's hand. "I'm Daisy's father, Charles Carson. Pleased to meet you."

"Joseph Molesley - likewise. And Daisy," he added, shaking her hand as well. "I wholeheartedly agree, by the way - the second one wasn't nearly as funny," he whispered with a wink, "although I did enjoy _Minions_ very much." His comments earned a smile from his newest pupil.

"Well, this is quite an interesting room you have here," Charles commented.

"Thank you - I'll take that as a compliment," Joseph answered. "The children seem to like it. We do have a good time, I'll say that. Third grade is really a lovely age. The kids are eager to learn about the world around them, and have enough reading and writing skill to do more in-depth activities. And it makes for a fun math class when Mr. Bones over there," he said, pointing to the skeleton, "can help illustrate the lessons better than I can."

"I'll take your word for it," Charles said with a nod. "Well, Daisy, what do you think? Might you like it here?"

Daisy nodded and smiled again, and looked around the room.

"Today has produced the most enthusiasm I've seen about school in months," Charles said, his raised eyebrows illustrating his amazement. "My thanks to you, Mr. Molesley - and to you, Phyllis. I think we're going have a wonderful year."

"My pleasure, Mr. Carson," Joseph said. "Welcome to Misty Cove. We'll see you on the

27th, Daisy."

Daisy nodded again, and smiled at Charles. She was excited, and couldn't wait to see what Mr. Molesley's class would be like.


	6. First Day of School

**A/N: First day of school! (For these folks, anyhow. Many New England students return prior to Labor Day, in August, hence my early date.)**

 **Thank you again for all of your reviews and support - and a shout-out to the many of you who have followed the story! I truly appreciate it!**

 **AND for those of you who have been following my "Music of the Heart"/"Music of Our Lives" series, I can inform you that MoOL will be finishing up this month - look for the next chapter somewhere around next week. (And shameless plug here ... if you've NOT read it, hop on over to MotH and check it out, if you like.)**

 **xx**

* * *

 _ **August 27, 2014**_

Elsie pulled the sheet over her head in vain, trying pointlessly to drown out the sound of the rooster's crow. The farm stopped for no woman, and she knew that the longer stayed in bed the more she'd be rushed in order to get out the door on time. She allowed herself another five minutes before her feet hit the floor.

She padded into the kitchen and put the kettle on, grateful for the end-of-summer warmth that meant she didn't need her bathrobe, and turned when she heard the clicking of dog paws on the tile floor.

"Well, good morning," Elsie said sleepily, reaching down to scratch Max's fluffy ears. He leaned into her legs, just waking up himself. "Let's see what we can find for you, shall we? Are you hungry?"

At the word 'hungry," Max's ears pricked up, and he started dancing around her legs.

"Alright, then. Go outside and then you can eat." She pointed toward the back door, where the doggie flap allowed Max to come and go as he pleased. "Go!"

Max bounded out the door, and Elsie waited for the kettle. When it whistled, she poured the boiling water over her tea ball and went to fill Max's dish. She grabbed the newspaper from the front step and took it and her tea out to the sunroom to watch the sun finish coming up over the pond.

The farm was Elsie's own little piece of heaven, and she was thankful for it every day. The sunroom was essentially a glass-walled porch, with a flagstone floor and a wood stove for the winter months. The door opened out onto a concrete patio, from which she could walk out onto her lawn and down to the pond that made up the back property line. Across the pond lived her closest neighbors, but the view from one house to the other was blocked by the arborvitae surrounding the neighbors' home. She could sit on the loveseat as she was doing now and see the sun peeking up over their horse paddock, and could hear their two mares whinnying across to her own pair of horses, one of whom was currently answering in kind. The sound always made her smile, knowing they were speaking in a language she could not understand. The rooster still crowed, but Elsie allowed herself this time every morning to center her thoughts and prepare for what the day would bring.

Her job was challenging in many ways and despite the hard, manual labor that the farm required, the school was by far more grueling. Seven hundred students and just Elsie, except for during the lunch hour when she had an assistant because of the sheer amount of medication that had to be administered in a timely fashion. Keeping up on who needed what and when; logging every visit in case they were audited by the state; the revolving door of teachers with questions and concerns.

And those concerns … Elsie shook her head as she thought of all the students who would be ecstatic to return to school today, the children whose lives were so hard at home that school - with all its work and demands - was a welcome reprieve. She reminded herself to stock the snack cabinet at work once again, running through the list of things that the students who frequented it would require. Yes, her job was difficult, but she couldn't imagine it any other way.

As she got up and made her way in to don her barn clothes, Elsie found herself ruminating on their newest student. Daisy Carson would certainly be a challenge, but Elsie had faith in Phyllis and her ability to get to the bottom of it. Phyllis hadn't brought the farm into the picture yet, but Elsie knew that was on the horizon. Her horses were therapy horses, something that the entire town knew, of course, and yet people didn't seem to talk about it. It was as though they desired to protect the privacy of the children who received therapy there as much as Elsie did, and she truly appreciated it. As she was pulling on her barn boots, she wondered if Edith had mentioned the therapy to Mr. Carson-

 _No - Charles._

She realized she was smiling halfway out to the chicken coop. A man hadn't made her smile like that in years, and she wondered why it should happen now. And a _parent_ , no less!

"Good morning, ladies," she called as she entered the henhouse. "Time to get outside for the day, and it's a beautiful one." She opened the door to the penned in enclosure that would separate the hens from the roosters and went to get the chicken feed, listening to the rustling of feathers and clucking voices as she made her way back. Surrounded by the 'ladies', she tossed a few handfuls of feed onto the ground before she made her way in to collect the eggs. _Nine today,_ she thought. _Not bad._

She headed over to the horses next, filling the water trough before heading over to the stalls.

"Good morning, loves," she said softly, listening to their gentle sounds and laughing when Star pricked up his ears as she started fishing in her apron for the apples she'd brought out. Elsie always started with Star first, knowing he was the pushier of the two. She held out the apple and scratched him behind the ear as he munched.

"You're my darling boy, aren't you? I need to go back to work today, you know. But Anna will be by later to check on you, hm? There's a good boy." She kissed his nose and opened the gate, allowing him to make his way to the fenced-in paddock. Moving to the neighboring stall, she couldn't help but laugh. There, laying down in the corner and half-asleep, was Scarlett.

"Now what are you doing there, love?" she cooed, opening the stall and waking the pony. Scarlett looked up and got to her feet, moving quickly and whinnying as though she were embarrassed to have been caught with her eyes closed. "It's fine, darling," Elsie added, holding out Scarlett's apple. "I don't blame you - I'd be sleeping in, too, if I could. Now, you be a good girl today, alright? Who knows," she added, running her hand down Scarlett's mane, "I may have a new friend stopping by to see you soon. And I think you'd be _perfect_ for her." Scarlett whinnied softly and nuzzled Elsie's head with her nose.

Horses outside and water filled, Elsie lugged two fresh bales of hay to the feed area of the paddock. She used the pitchfork to loosen the hay a bit, then closed the gate tightly and turned on the electric fence.

"Until this afternoon, everyone," she called to them. She looked up at the sky, now a bright blue with nary a cloud, and smiled.

Once inside the mud room, Elsie deposited her boots on the mat by the door and stripped out of her apron, jeans, and tee shirt. She tossed them in the washing machine and headed up to the shower.

The hot water hit her skin and invigorated her. She could never understand the idea of a cold shower - those did nothing to wake her up, they just chilled her to the bone. As she scrubbed her face and rinsed the conditioner from her hair, she allowed her thoughts to wander once more to the Carsons. She knew they came to this part of Maine because the Crawley daughters had settled here, knew that Charles went way back with Edith and Mary's father, Robert.

Elsie pursed her lips a bit at the thought of Mary - there was certainly no love lost between the school nurse and the editor of the local newspaper. And ever since Mary had allowed Richard Carlisle to come into town and sweep both Mary and her paper into his cunning clutches, she respected the woman even less. But she _was_ letting her beachfront home out to Charles and Daisy, and that in itself was a kindness. Elsie had only seen the place from the outside, but it was stunning and must have incredible views of the sunset. Elsie always wondered why the Carlisles didn't live there themselves, but Edith had told her that Richard preferred to live upstairs from the newspaper office. She'd shaken her head at that and had listened to Edith voice her own thoughts that Carlisle was too shady for his own good, but had kept her opinions to herself. Mary was Edith's family, after all; despite how close Elsie and Edith had become over the years, they were _not_ family, and Elsie knew she'd do well to keep that in mind.

She shut off the water and wrapped her hair in a towel, then dried off and applied her lotion before wrapping the second towel around her body and making her way back to the bedroom. She selected her favorite scrub top for today - the one with the horses all over it - and a matching pair of pants. One benefit to her job was definitely the comfort of the clothing she was allowed to wear; while half the staff showed up in dresses in pumps, Elsie felt like she arrived in her pajamas. She had no complaints about that. After slipping her feet into her favorite pair of Danskos, Elsie dried her hair and brushed her teeth. She was halfway out the bathroom door when she nipped back in, putting a bit of mascara and lip color on at the last minute, telling herself she was foolish for doing so. She never bothered much with make-up, but couldn't help herself today.

It was the first day of school, after all - and Charles Carson owed her one emergency form.

She shook her head at her foolishness. The man had just been through an awful time, and Elsie herself was certainly no stranger to misfortune. She knew she had nothing to offer him, yet she couldn't seem to stop thinking about him.

Elsie jumped into her truck, started the ignition, and headed for the coffee shop. She knew the others laughed at her, but it was tea first thing and then coffee the rest of the day. Edith teased her for being a bad influence, and it was probably true. She pulled up the drive-thru window and saw her cup already waiting on the shelf.

"Mornin' Elsie! Happy first day back!" Claire was zipping around behind the window, but Elsie knew she'd spotted the truck and poured Elsie's regular order – hot extra-large, milk only.

"Hello, Claire. How was your summer? Brandon getting along well?"

"Yeah, he is, thanks. He's nothing like a 'terrible two,' which I shouldn't even say aloud for fear that will change." She laughed as she folded up Elsie's bagel and took her payment. "Oh, well. Bobby keeps telling me we lucked out – evidently _he_ was hell on wheels."

Elsie laughed. "I can believe that!" she said. "Please give them my love – and thanks," she added, raising the cup to Claire. "Wish me luck!"

"You never needed it, love. They adore you and you know it. Have a good one!"

Elsie waved as she pulled away from the shop and headed to school.

 _Here we go!_

* * *

Elsie pulled into the parking lot and noticed her truck shudder a bit when she put it in park.

 _Great - just great._

She jumped down from the cab and slammed the door in frustration, then reached into the storage box and removed the grocery bag she'd tucked in there. As she made her way through the front door, Elsie answered the 'hello' of several of her colleagues. _It IS nice to be back_ , she thought. She wasn't terribly close friends with anyone at the place except for Phyllis and Edith, but it was still nice to see them all. Elsie was in it for the children, though, and would be out on the front steps to greet them off the buses and cars in the parent drop-off queue in twenty minutes' time.

She entered her office and took a moment to appreciate all the hard work she'd put in these last two weeks. Everything was sparkling clean, and while the furniture was arranged a bit differently than last year, it gave much more space. She unpacked the grocery bag into the cabinet and checked the fridge to see that the temperature was right for the medications stored within. Satisfied that everything was up to snuff, she grabbed her coffee and headed outside to stand with Edith as the first children arrived.

"Good morning, Edith," she said happily. "Welcome back - officially."

"And you, Elsie." Just then, the first bus pulled up and a riot of children - mostly freshly-scrubbed - filed off, a sea of new backpacks bouncing about, as yet empty but soon to be filled to the brim with books, lunchboxes, jackets, and more.

Elsie waved at and greeted them all, but she made sure to take the time to notice the backpacks that _weren't_ new, to see the children that _weren't_ quite as well-dressed as their peers, the ones who might look as though they weren't eating properly, weren't being cared for enough at home. She noticed the ones who looked anxious and the ones who only looked at the ground. She made a point of greeting those children extra kindly, earning a smile from most of them just for the fact that she paid attention. It simultaneously warmed and broke her heart.

And then a new car pulled up to the curb, and Elsie's heart fluttered. Her feet carried her to the passenger door and her hand reached out to open it, saving the girl inside from struggling with her new book bag and the door all at once.

"Good morning, Miss Carson," she said brightly, ducking down and looking in at Charles as he was seated at the wheel. "A Volvo? My, my ... you do have good taste."

"A seemingly very wise person advised me to go all-wheel drive," he smiled. "Do you like it?"

"Very smart, Mr. Carson," she said pointedly, shooting a glance at Daisy.

"Daisy, it appears that Ms. Hughes is going to bring you in. Is that alright?"

Daisy nodded and then leaned over to wrap her arms around her Papa's neck, giving him a kiss on the lips and whispering in his ear, "It's alright, Papa - she's very nice."

"Yes, she is," he agreed, sending a smile in the direction of the nurse. Elsie looked confused, and he clarified. "She's rather nice, indeed, Daisy." He gave his girl one last squeeze and Elsie held out her hand, which Daisy accepted gratefully. Suddenly, Daisy's eyes widened and she turned back to look at Charles as she pointed at Elsie's chest excitedly.

"Oh, yes, Daisy – they're quite wonderful, aren't they?"

"I beg your pardon?" Elsie asked, reaching down to the door so that she could close it for him.

"Your top," he clarified, the mortification showing on his face as she realized what she must have thought. "Daisy loves horses."

"Do you?" she asked the little girl, who nodded and smiled as Elsie struggled not to laugh at Charles's embarrassment. "Well, Daisy, I think we're going to be friends," she said with a smile. "I love horses, too."

Charles nodded his thanks at Elsie as she closed the door, then pulled away from the curb carefully, sending a brief wave in Edith's direction as he passed by.

* * *

As he drove out of the school's driveway, Charles allowed himself to wonder about Ms. Elsie Hughes. Edith had told him that Elsie had arrived in Misty Cove quite a long time ago now, but many townspeople (as is so often the case) still referred to the property she lived on as the 'Johnson Farm,' despite the fact that Elsie had purchased it upon moving here. By the time Mary had arrived in town, followed soon after by Edith, Elsie had been nurse at the school for some years.

Charles pulled into his own driveway and got out of the car. He locked the door, then decided to go for a walk on the beach instead of heading back into the house. The air was warming rapidly now, it still being August, and he tossed his jacket onto the front porch swing before removing his shoes and socks. Thus prepared, he made his way down the path that led from the back door to the sandy, private beach.

He remembered how this home was actually half owed by Violet and it made him laugh, the sound drowned out by the coming in of the tide. He shouldn't have been surprised when Robert told him, yet he _was_. It did make him feel better to be paying monthly rent to Mary and not to Carlisle, though. _Richard,_ he reminded himself, but he couldn't deny that, despite being Mary's godfather, Charles just couldn't stand the man and, frankly, he just didn't want to be on a first-name basis with him. Charles had no idea what Mary saw in Carlisle, aside from his evidently uncanny ability to turn a floundering newspaper into a prosperous one, but he knew it wasn't really his business. He was just happy to be helping Mary out in any way he could.

After having walked about a quarter mile, Charles stopped and sat on a rock that jutted out from the beach. He took some time to center himself, calming his thoughts by inhaling the healing sea air and exhaling forcefully - exactly according to doctor's instructions, when he'd had his heart attack two years ago. He knew he should be exercising more, had to get back in shape so that he could keep up with Daisy, but they'd both been barely keeping their heads above water these past few weeks. Alice's death had sent him reeling. It was a result he'd never have expected, and it was something that he'd had to stifle in order to help his daughter to cope. Daisy was making some progress at home, to be sure, but he feared that now she was back at school she would regress a bit, overwhelmed by too much change. Only time would tell.

 _And what of it, old man? What about you, hmm?_ His conscience kept reminding him, in quiet times such as these, that _he_ still had a great deal to wade through as well. He had almost convinced himself that he was well and truly over losing Alice to Grigg … and then she'd died, and he mourned her loss intensely, and he hadn't been sure what to do with that. Technically, they'd still been married, but that didn't feel _real_ anymore. Even Daisy had accepted that her Mummy and Papa were no longer together, had begun to make room in her sweet little heart for 'the other Charlie,' and Charles had accepted even before then that his marriage had been on the road to disaster long before Grigg entered the picture.

He was surprised that he could admit that easily now, after all that had happened, and that since coming to Misty Cove he'd been feeling like he turned some sort of corner. He'd even talked it over with Cora on the phone last week, who'd suggested that he might not have been mourning Alice's death so much as the loss of their marriage beforehand. He suspected she might be right, but he still owed it to himself to sort his feelings, before …

… _before. Before what?_

Well, before he thought any more about Elsie Hughes, that was certain. He had no idea what it was about that woman, how she'd spoken a dozen or so sentences to him, some kind of nonsensical discussion about accents and trees and a pie, and then - at a brush of her fingertips - he was completely lost. He had no business becoming involved with _anyone_ at this point in his life, let alone someone that Daisy had to interact with on a regular basis at school.

And yet … _and yet._

 _You're in trouble, old man. And you'd do best to avoid it._

He stood and made his way to the water, wading around a bit and enjoying the cold temperature of it - shocking, really - as it chilled his skin. He stayed a few more minutes before making his way back up to the house, entering through the back door and drying his feet on the mat.

Ten minutes later, a cup of freshly-brewed tea in hand, Charles sat at his desk. He booted up the laptop and opened the files on which he needed to be working today, and tried (unsuccessfully) to push Elsie Hughes and her lovely, lilting Renfrew accent out of his mind.

* * *

 **Reviews are life! :) Thanks for continuing to stick with me here. Lots more to come! x**


	7. Elsie Breaks Down

**A/N: This is a longer chapter, decided to combine two. Thank you SO MUCH for all of your lovely reviews. I've enjoyed reading each and every one, and have even gotten an idea or two to include in future chapters! I am still in awe of the response, but it gives me life, I can tell you that honestly. I'm truly humbled.**

 **Additionally, someone asked me where the music is! Love it - yeah, I often center my fics around music. This one, however, will incorporate various songs throughout, and at the end I'll toss out a Spotify playlist with all of them on it. For right now, though, we're relatively music-free. :)**

 **Chelsie On!**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 **Still August 27, 2014**

At the end of the school day, Charles found his way to the parent pick-up lot at the school, parked, and was directed to the cafeteria to wait with all the other parents whose children didn't ride the bus home. He was surprised at how few parents were in there, really, and guessed that many must be working - a thought which made him wonder how many of these children went home to an empty house. He supposed all the neighbors looked out for one another, though; after all, Misty Cove _was_ a fairly small town.

Three and a half minutes after the bell rang, Daisy came through the door and spotted him standing there, his tall, smartly-dressed frame standing out in this community of farmers and fishermen's wives. He'd just been wondering if he was overdressed and had been feeling slightly uncomfortable when he spotted his lovely girl, immediately forgetting the triviality of his appearance.

"Papa!" she whispered gleefully into his ear as he crouched down to receive her hug.

He hugged her and then pulled back, looking into her face as he asked, "How was your day? Did you like it?"

She nodded and smiled, then took his hand and almost pulled him out the door. At first this worried him, as he thought she couldn't get out of the school fast enough; he was half right – it turned out Daisy just wanted to _talk._

"Papa, Mr. Molesley is so _funny_! And, first thing when we got to the classroom, we did an activity where we had to line up in order of how dark our hair was – without anyone being allowed to talk! Then he put us in our seats in that order. And by the end of the day, he knew everyone's name."

Charles thought it sounded a bit odd at first … and then he thought about what she'd said, how the activity was designed where none of the students were allowed to speak, and his already-favorable opinion of Mr. Molesley went up another notch or two as he realized that the activity had allowed Daisy to participate just like every other student in the room, right off the bat.

 _Well done, Mr. Molesley._

Daisy prattled on and on as Charles headed downtown, taking the chance to run a few errands while they were out and the rain held off. Daisy explained that she disliked Miss O'Brien, but as she did well in both English and Social Studies normally she didn't seem terribly worried. She had understood what went on in Math, and visited Miss Baxter during lunch, when she'd been shown the iPad app that she would use during school hours, starting tomorrow. She was rather proud when she told Charles that it would be _her_ responsibility to pick the device up in the morning and return it at the end of the day, plugging it in so that it would charge.

Eventually, they arrived at the grocery store and picked up some chicken to cook on the grill that Mary had left for them on the back deck. As they got back on the highway, Charles noticed the skies darkening, a storm moving in.

"Is it going to rain, Papa?"

"Looks like," he said, just as the first drops splattered onto the windshield.

"Papa, look! Is that an accident?"

Fear ripped through his chest at her words and the look on her face that he saw in the rear-view mirror, but Daisy's gaze didn't leave the vehicle on the side of the road. As they neared it, Charles pulled over behind it, noting that the hazard lights were flashing - a good indication that whomever was inside was, in fact, well enough to have thought to do that.

"Stay here," he warned Daisy, who nodded. Charles grabbed his umbrella, exited the car, and approached the unknown vehicle.

"Hello?" he called cautiously. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, perfectly fine!" called out the familiar, feminine voice through the lowering window.

 _Elsie?_

"Ms. Hughes? My goodness, are you hurt?" he asked as he reached for the handle and opened the door.

"Elsie," she insisted, "and no, I don't believe so. Just a bit shaken."

"Whatever happened?"

"Well, the truck was acting funny this morning, but I figured I'd have time to run one errand and then get home. It started behaving badly as soon as I left the store, so I pulled over here, but then it suddenly jerked to a stop and my head was knocked about a bit. I'm not sure, but I think it's the transmission, which is truly unfortunate."

'And do you know a lot about automobiles, Elsie?" he enquired with a raised eyebrow.

"There are a great many things I know about that may surprise you, Charles," she replied, motioning with her hand for him to back up so she could exit the truck's cab.

"Indeed." He wished he had a smart reply to her seemingly provocative quip, but he found himself at a loss for words, wondering if she'd intended the tone or if he was just reading into it what he wished.

She laughed at his expression. "I didn't mean it like _that_ ," she said. She pulled out her cell phone. After a brief conversation, she shut it off and turned her attention back to Charles.

"Branson's will send someone in about half an hour - Andy, most likely," she said.

"Branson's?"

She smiled. "Yes, our local garage. Tom Branson runs it - he's a former student of ours, actually. Lovely man."

"Well, please allow us to drive you home once he comes along."

"Oh, no," she protested, "please don't let me hold you up. Daisy must be dying to get home after her first day." She peeked around the side of the truck then, and spotted Daisy in the car. She gave a friendly wave, which Daisy returned enthusiastically from the backseat of the Volvo.

"I told her to stay there," he explained quietly. "I wasn't sure … well, you understand."

Elsie's face crumpled as she read the meaning behind his words. "Oh, my goodness, how thoughtless of me to have forgotten," she muttered, reaching out to squeeze his arm. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he answered. "It's quite alright. I'm very glad you weren't hurt."

"I'm fine," she reassured him.

Just then, the rain picked up. "Um, far be it for me to be pushy, but as it's now pouring _and_ rather warm out, how about you join us in our dry and air-conditioned car, and then we'll drive you home once your friend sorts your truck."

"Oh, I don't wish to impose. It's alright, Andy can bring me … I can just wait in the truck."

"And have Daisy think I left you stranded?" he asked, feigning a look of horror. "Not a chance!"

Elsie laughed, a light, twinkling sound that stirred something deep within his heart.

"Well, we can't have that," she agreed. "Fine, then - and thank you. That's very kind." Elsie made her way to the car, trying not to get _too_ close to Charles as he covered them both with his umbrella. She climbed into the front seat and turned to chat with Daisy.

"Did you have a good first day, my dear?"

Daisy nodded, then opened her bag to extract the book she'd taken home to read.

" _Black Beauty,"_ Elsie said. "One of my favorites. Have you begun it yet?"

A nod.

"And are you on Chapter … two?" she tried, seeing the girl open to her bookmarked page.

A shake of the head - _No._

"Three?"

 _No._

Elsie was skeptical. "So how far, exactly, _have_ you read?"

Daisy held up five fingers, and Elsie gasped. " _Five!_ Daisy, that's remarkable! Did you read all that in Miss Baxter's office during lunch?"

"No, she didn't," Charles interceded. "Evidently, Miss O'Brien assigned a task to the class that took most of the students the entire class period to finish. Daisy says _she_ finished it in about ten minutes," he said, smiling at his girl, "and so Miss O'Brien sent her into the reading corner to fetch a book."

Elsie looked at Daisy, impressed, and gave her a knowing smile. "And I'm sure Miss O'Brien was rather surprised by _you_ , Miss Carson … _well done._ "

Daisy just smiled, with a smug little twinkle in her eye that made Elsie and Charles laugh.

"My, my, Charles," Elsie laughed, "your daughter is quite something."

"That she is."

Elsie and Charles chatted on as they waited for Andy to show up with the tow truck. Elsie filled him in some more on the 'key players' in Misty Cove. He knew about the local paper, of course. She gave him the library's hours, told him about the upcoming fall festival that would be at the church - Misty Cove Congregational, the only church that was actually _in_ their little town - and gave him the low-down on Beryl, owner of _The Cheeky Devil._

"The name of the restaurant is very Beryl-appropriate," she laughed, "but it's truly one of the best places in town. Beryl Mason is, hands down, the most excellent cook and baker in Misty Cove. You must bring Daisy for Saturday breakfast sometime. You'll wait for a table, but it's worth it and, if the weather's nice, she's got seating and a coffee/juice setup for everyone while they're waiting. It's quite lovely." *

Daisy tapped on Elsie's seat, making Elsie turn around. Daisy pointed at her, cocked her head inquisitively, and smiled.

Elsie nodded. "Yes, I'm there _every_ Saturday."

"Well, then, it looks like we have plans on Saturday," Charles said, secretly rather happy about that.

Just then, the tow truck appeared. Andy deftly maneuvered it off to the side of the road and hopped out, and Elsie and Charles got out of the car and met him halfway. The rain had let up for the moment, thankfully.

"Elsie," he called, shaking his head, "what did I tell you …"

"I know, Andy, I know," she answered, shaking her head at herself and exasperated for having let the truck go as long as she had. "Just let me get the sacks out of the back and you can take it. Oh …" She looked at Charles, a question on her face. "Is there room in the back of your wagon? I'd almost forgotten that I picked up the feed before breaking down."

"Pardon?"

"The feed bags - for my horses," she replied. Daisy's face lit up, a smile appearing on her face.

"Erm, I think so?" Charles went around to the back of his car and opened the hatch. "Will this do?"

"That's perfect," she answered, moving swiftly to the bed of her truck. She popped open and lowered the tailgate, then reached in for the first of the two sacks.

"Do you need -" Charles started, but then the words died in his mouth as he saw Elsie lift the 50-lb bag up and onto her shoulder and head to the back of the Volvo, then deposit it into the cargo area.

"No, I can see you don't," he muttered, trying to ignore Andy's laugh.

"Elsie's small, but she's fierce," Andy said to him.

"Yes … quite." Charles shook his head in wonder as he stood by and watched Elsie move the second feed bag, feeling idiotic that he'd not offered to help but knowing full well that this woman was, clearly, in better shape than he was.

Andy wiped his hands on his jeans, then extended his arm for a handshake. "Andrew Parker. I don't think we've met."

"Charles Carson," he answered, shaking the young man's hand. "My daughter, Daisy, is just there in the car. We've just moved here."

"Ah, yeah, staying in Mary's place on the beach, right? Good choice - beautiful property, that. I've done some gardening work for them in the summers. Give me a call if you ever need a hand; I do a lot of odd jobs around town when I'm not busy at Branson's."

"I will do, thank you," Charles said gratefully.

"All set!" Elsie called, clapping her hands together to rid them of dust. "Andy, have Tom call me?"

"Sure thing, Elsie. Do you need a car to borrow? We can drop one of the loaners by your house after work."

"That would be wonderful Andy, thank you!" Elsie waved goodbye and got back into the car next to Charles, who was sitting behind the wheel once again, dumbfounded at the scene that had just unfolded before his eyes.

"Those were 50 lb. bags of deadweight. I guess there _are_ a great many things about you that will surprise me. You are a woman of mystery, aren't you, Ms. Hughes?" he asked.

"I don't know about that, _Mr. Carson_ ," she teased. "Perhaps."

Charles pulled away from the roadside and headed toward … he wasn't sure. "I've just realized that I have no idea where you live." He was embarrassed not to have thought of it beforehand, but he'd been rather distracted to have once again run into this woman who'd been occupying his thoughts.

"Oh, but surely you do? We're _neighbors,_ Charles. Well, sort of, anyhow." With that, she sat back and buckled her seat belt, giving turn-by-turn directions until he found himself pulling into a long, narrow driveway, the opening of which was marked clearly with a quaint little sign that read: _L'il Farm._

"Your beach rental is across the street and through the small wood, is it not?"

Charles parked in front of the barn and looked to where she was indicating. "So it is - the front of my house faces the field behind those woods, I believe. I watch the sunrise from the front porch, when I'm up early enough." He glanced around, spotting the pond to the back of her property. "Oh, but it must be more gorgeous from across that pond."

"It's quite nice, yes," she admitted gratefully. "Shall I give you the ten-cent tour?"

Daisy scrambled out of the backseat then, and she shuffled through her backpack for something. She tapped Charles's arm as he passed by.

"What is it, petal?" He bent down to hear her whisper, and didn't notice Elsie's warm smile as she heard his term of endearment.

Daisy held out a pink brochure to her father, and Elsie knew immediately what was coming. As Daisy whispered what she had to say in her Papa's ear, Elsie gathered her purse and bag from the front seat of the car, closing the door behind her and making her way to the trunk area to remove the bags of horse feed.

"Is that so?" Charles stood up and found Elsie, handing her the brochure and asking the obvious question. "This is you?"

She nodded. "Yes, that's me. My _L'il Farm_ is, among other things, a horse therapy facility. I presume Miss Baxter gave that to Daisy? She told me she might."

"Yes, and Daisy is rather interested, of course - she's interested in anything having to do with horses. But I'm afraid I don't quite understand. _Horse_ therapy?"

Elsie handed Charles her school bag and purse, which he took awkwardly from her hands so that she could get the feed sacks. "Do you mind?" she asked, nodding to them.

"Um, no, but …" He was cut off by Elsie hefting one of the bags out of the car, then bringing it over to the barn and depositing it in a tub. She returned for the second bag, and then Charles shut the trunk.

"Why don't you both come in for a cold drink and I'll tell you about it?"

"I'd love to, but we really must get our groceries home …"

It was Elsie's turn to be embarrassed. "Oh, my goodness, of course - you did mention you'd picked up dinner. I'm sorry, I completely forgot."

"It's only some chicken, but I don't want it to get too warm in the car …"

"Well," Elsie said pensively, eyebrows raised as she thought on the fly, "I _do_ have a grill, Charles. And," she added, looking to Daisy, "a cherry pie that needs to go in the oven. I'd been intending to deliver it to your door, actually - a sort of welcome to the neighborhood gesture. Would you allow me to be terribly rude and ask you _and_ your chicken to stay? I'll gladly prepare dinner as I fill you in on the horses. Two birds with one stone, as they say." She smiled hopefully, looking back and forth between the Carsons.

 _Elsie Hughes,_ she chided herself, _what the HELL are you doing, woman?_

Charles watched as Elsie bit down on her bottom lip as she awaited his answer, a habit which Charles found remarkably endearing … and, he admitted to himself, something he rather enjoyed watching her do. He wondered if she were even aware of doing it at all. He looked to Daisy, who nodded happily.

"I guess we should," he answered, feeling for all the world as though this would not be the last time that he'd be guilted into a decision by the two delightful people now standing before him … and feeling that the idea of that didn't bother him one bit. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." She turned and led them to the front door, which she unlocked swiftly when she heard the scrambling claws coming from the other side.

"I should warn you -" she managed to get out, just before a blur of black and white came flying out the door and made a beeline for Daisy, who tumbled to the grass as she was given a dog kiss bath by one _very_ excited and friendly border collie.

"- I have a dog," she finished weakly.

"I can see that," Charles chuckled, watching and listening with delight at the peals of happy laughter coming from his daughter. He shook his head and stole a glance at Elsie, who was smiling brilliantly at him. Clearly Daisy was shocked, and didn't realize that she was laughing out loud.

"Now, how about that tour?" she asked.

Elsie led Charles and Daisy into the house, grateful she'd left the skylights open and that it wasn't blistering hot inside as it sometimes was when she got home.

"You and Max can stay outside, if you want," she said to Daisy. "You're welcome to play with him anywhere he'd like to go, but be careful not to go too close to the pond and, whatever you do, don't touch the horse fence - it's electrified."

Daisy looked at Charles with wide, excited eyes and jumped at the sound of Max's squeaky toy that he'd just dropped at her feet.

"Well? Would you like to play with Max?" Charles asked her. Daisy nodded immediately, and Charles followed her back out into the yard.

"Daisy," he said, once they were far enough away from the open door, "are you alright with having dinner here? You _seemed_ excited, but I know you wouldn't say anything in front of Ms. Hughes to make her feel badly." _You wouldn't say anything in front of her at_ _ **all**_ _, most likely._

"Oh, yes. She's very kind and I really want to play with Max. Do you think she'll introduce me to the horses later?"

"I am sure she will, petal." He kissed her head and sent her off, Max bounding behind her, toy in his mouth. Charles watched them for a moment, until he was comfortable that Max would be perfectly safe with Daisy - and vice versa. But when he saw the pup drop his toy at Daisy's feet, then crouch down, tail wagging, waiting for her to toss it, he knew they'd be just fine. He watched about three rounds of fetch before turning and heading back in the screen door.

"Your house is lovely," he remarked, looking around.

"Thank you," Elsie replied from the sink. She was washing her hands and had donned an apron, something that Charles found unexpectedly _domestic,_ though he couldn't have said _why_ he found it odd. "It's much smaller than yours, I am sure, but I like it." She took out a baking dish and some kind of sauce from the refrigerator, then reached for his grocery bag.

"I'm going to wash the chicken and marinate it for a bit while the pie bakes, if that's alright? Would you like a cold drink?"

"I'd love one, thank you."

She opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of lemonade for Daisy, then pulled out two beers, holding them up in the air with her eyebrows raised. Charles smiled and nodded, and she popped the tops off and handed one to him.

"Cheers," he said, clinking his bottle gently against hers. "And thank you again for the invitation to stay."

"Yes, well, thanks for providing my dinner," Elsie smirked. "I've got a potato salad in the fridge that'll go nicely, I think. Feel free to meander about - it won't take you long."

The entire house was centered around one main room, comprised of a living room area, a dining room, and the kitchen. Doors off the dining room led to a small guest suite, then a second bedroom next to that, and steps leading down from where the dining table sat led to a flagstone porch. Down the small hallway behind the kitchen were the main bath, the basement stairs, and what looked to Charles to be the master bedroom. He looked up, admiring the exposed-beam ceiling and the height of the rooms. As he wandered back into the living room area, he made his way over to the stone fireplace.

"This is a gorgeous fireplace. I think I prefer it to the formal one I have at the beach house." The entire façade was fieldstone, clearly hand-set, and it extended all the way up the wall. A walnut mantle had been set in on which Elsie had arranged various photos. He took a moment to look at them all, smiling as he recognized a photo of a much younger Elsie when she was just a schoolgirl. Next to her was a taller girl, slightly older he thought, and a woman whom he assumed was Elsie's mother. The girl didn't resemble either of them, though, so he wondered if she were perhaps a family friend. Beside that were a few more modern photos: Elsie and Phyllis Baxter, at what appeared to be a Christmas party; a photo of Max; one of Elsie with one of the horses; and a photo of a man who appeared to be in his late 30's.

"It _is_ lovely, isn't it?" Elsie said, coming around the corner to find Charles looking at the photos. "I often sit on the porch, actually, but I do enjoy it in here when I've got the Christmas tree up."

"In front of this huge window, no doubt?" he asked, indicating the one to the left of the fireplace.

"Mmm," she hummed. "It's the perfect spot, although I wait until about a week before Christmas to get it so that the heat from the fireplace doesn't kill the poor thing immediately. John always holds one for me."

"John?"

"John Bates – he owns _John's Tree Farm_. He's about a mile up the road, does hayrides and apple picking in the fall, and then sleigh rides, a sugar shack, and Christmas trees in the winter. You'll meet him eventually," she smiled.

"I'm sure I will," he chuckled. "Small town."

"Exactly."

"Your family?" he enquired, pointing at the photos.

"Yes," she answered a bit too quickly, "my family."

Elsie peeked out the window and saw Daisy laying on the grass beside Max, who was currently getting the belly-rub of his life. "She's very good with him," she commented. "I'm afraid they'll both be rather wet, though, after rolling around in the rain-soaked grass."

Charles looked out the window to see what Elsie was seeing, choosing to ignore the fact that she'd just deflected any conversation about the photos on the mantle. "I'm sure neither of them will mind being wet. Daisy is quite gentle," he said, "and she loves animals. Speaking of which … the horse therapy?"

"Yes. Why don't we sit out and we can watch them play?" Charles nodded and they made for the chairs on the front porch.

"Equine-facilitated psychotherapy,"* she began, "is an alternative way to work with children who suffer from various ailments. The idea behind it is that children are, by nature, wanting to care for something that will not argue or fuss back at them. They simply want the opportunity to share themselves and not be judged for their behavior."

"Don't we all?" Charles mused, and Elsie nodded.

"Yes, but with children the mental capacity to make sense of others' reactions isn't fully developed. Children are very black and white in how they see the world, and will often hold a great deal back from a therapist because they're afraid of how they'll be perceived - as _bad,_ to overgeneralize it a bit. But a child can come into a situation with a horse, for example, and just _be herself._ She knows the horse doesn't care if she speaks or not, doesn't care if she's quiet or shy or outgoing or any of those things … the horse just wants to be petted, hugged, ridden, groomed. It has no expectations of the child, and the child knows that."

"I see," Charles mused. "And that opens up the door for some sort of therapeutic work, I presume ... but how?"

"Because the child – say, Daisy - shares the experience of caring for the animal _with_ the therapist. It's a mutual bond that has nothing to do with the child's disability, but rather with the love for the animal. But while that interaction is happening the child's defenses are down, and it's a bit easier for the therapist to foster a comfort level with the child. And _that's_ when the rest of the therapy can take place. The horse serves as sort of a buffer between the child and the therapist, but there's also the simple benefit that the child has a wonderful experience in being able to love another creature and receive unconditional love in return."

"And it's always horses?" he asked, now fully intrigued by what Elsie was explaining to him.

"No," she acknowledged, "sometimes it's dogs, or a rabbit even. Here, I use horses, but you can see from how Daisy is with Max that dogs are clearly another favorite. The children who come here to work with the horses are always drawn to him, and he's so good with them," she said proudly.

"And you are the therapist? I didn't know you did double-duty, Ms. Hughes," he smiled.

"I am one of them, but I also have Anna. Anna Smith," she added, answering his questioning eyebrow. "She is a former student from our school, actually, who went on to university to study behavioral therapy and animal sciences, and she graduated last spring. She phoned and asked if she could help out on a part-time basis, and I agreed immediately. She's here once a week to work with children, but I employ her to keep up with the farm chores while I'm at work, too. When we have numerous children here that's not much of an issue, because part of the program means the children are helping out with cleaning and grooming and such, but right now I've only got two children coming, one weekly and one every other week, and so there's a lot that needs to be done when I'm at school."

"And Daisy would make three children," he commented, nodding slowly. "You know, I think she'd really love what you have to offer here." He heard his daughter's squeal from across the field, and looked out at her playing tag with Max. "I think being in Misty Cove is _already_ doing her a world of good," he added softly.

"I hope so. Let's go and introduce her to Scarlett, shall we?" She collected their empty bottles and brought them into the kitchen, then put on her barn boots and joined Charles, Daisy, and Max over by the fence.

"Alright now, Daisy, I'd like you to come with me," Elsie explained. "There's a green tub in the barn marked 'boots,' and I'd like you to find a pair that fit you. We can't have you walking around the muck in your nice school shoes, can we?" Daisy shook her head, then went off in search of footwear.

"I keep a pretty decent stock - as kids outgrow their riding boots, the parents usually just donate them," Elsie explained to Charles as she reached over to turn off the electric fence. "Does Daisy actually know how to ride?"

"Oh, yes - English saddle, of course," he smiled. "She's not what I'd call an accomplished rider for her age, but she can manage and she's not afraid."

"Excellent. Okay, Papa," she smiled, "your job is to stand on the other side of the fence and watch. That's it," she emphasized, "and remember: she'll be fine."

"I'm trusting you with my child's well-being," he said meaningfully, looking her in the eyes, and Elsie understood in an instant that he was completely serious.

"I know you are," she said, albeit a bit breathless in her attempt to reassure him, "and I thank you. I promise, you won't be disappointed."

Elsie marched off to get Scarlett saddled and bridled, a task which she asked Daisy to help with. Charles watched through the barn door in awe as this amazing woman smoothly involved his daughter in these important tasks, once again asking only 'yes or no' questions to which Daisy could clearly reply with a nod or shake of her head. Daisy was fairly competent in _how_ to saddle a horse, but she lacked the physical strength at that time to lift the saddle onto its back and to cinch the strap appropriately; Elsie foresaw this and asked Daisy only to steady the horse as she did those tasks, giving Daisy a carrot to feed to Scarlett as a reward for being good. But it was Daisy, Charles noted, who got to put the bridle on - thanks to a step stool that Elsie had dragged out for her to stand on.

"Would you like to bring her out to the paddock?" Elsie asked her.

 _Nod._

"Alright, then, here you go," Elsie said, handing Daisy the lead and grabbing the stool. Together, they walked a very calm Scarlett out to the paddock, in full view of Charles and Max, who had exited the barn and approached the fence. Charles leaned against the now-safe fence, and Max sat quietly beside him.

Charles was amazed at the calm nature of the horse and at how comfortable Daisy seemed in what was, despite her past lessons, a somewhat unfamiliar situation. It had been at least a year since she'd been on a horse of any size, and he noticed as the next half hour went on that Elsie had carefully provided multiple opportunities for Daisy to actually _care_ for Scarlett: the carrot, the bridle, lots of petting, encouraging her to hug Scarlett gently around the neck, and the brushing down after their brief ride was done.

"Would you like for me to light the grill?" Charles called, and Elsie looked up and nodded.

"If you wouldn't mind? Thank you, I'd nearly forgotten," Elsie admitted. "We'll be about ten more minutes, I think."

"I don't mind at all." He headed off, smiling at how comfortable he felt being here at this _'L'il Farm.'_

Once the grill was lit, Charles decided to pour a glass of lemonade for all three of them. He found a tray next to the refrigerator, and opened two cabinets in search of some glasses, silently pleased at Elsie's supreme organization, at how everything he needed to find seemed to be put into the cabinets that he, himself, would have used for them.

Task completed, he carried the tray out to the back patio, where Elsie had a table and chairs set by the pond. He set the tray down and then made his way through the backyard, walking along the edge of the pond until he could see the barn and paddock area to his left, across the driveway.

Elsie and Daisy were just coming out of the barn, Daisy barefoot and carrying her socks and shoes in her hand.

And then Charles's breath caught in his throat, for Elsie stopped Daisy for a moment, then moved behind her to fix her ponytail, which must have come loose when the girl removed her riding helmet. He watched as Elsie removed the elastic and held it between her teeth as she combed through Daisy's hair with her fingers as best she could, then plaited Daisy's hair in a loose braid, making it look much neater than it had been moments before. Daisy looked at her and smiled her thanks, and Elsie nodded. "We can't have you looking messy for your Papa," he heard her say, and Daisy giggled.

 _Giggled. She's laughed more since we've moved to Misty Cove than she has in the past year prior, perhaps more._

He couldn't help but think that this had more to do with this motherly, no-nonsense, auburn-haired nurse/farmer than he'd originally wanted to believe … and that thought was not entirely unwelcome.

"I've brought some lemonade out to the back porch," he called to them.

"Alright, just let us wash up and I'll get the chicken cooked," Elsie replied.

She saw Charles nod and turn back to look out over the pond, and couldn't help but think that, for the first time in a great many years, she felt completely happy, completely at _peace_ with this little family that had appeared in her life so unexpectedly.

The thought scared the hell out of her.

* * *

 ***The description of _The Cheeky Devil_ is based upon a breakfast place called Amoré in Ogunquit, Maine, and it's delicious.**

 ***Equine-facilitated psychotherapy is a real thing, and the school district where I work has a farm that does it. Look it up – it's truly remarkable. :)**

 **Reviews are welcome! :) x**


	8. The Cheeky Devil

**A/N: Time to meet a couple new characters. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support and love - Please drop me a little review and let me know what you think of this newest installment. :) And I apologize to the reviewer whose prediction will not be coming true, regarding Daisy speaking.**

 **Brief music reference in here: Boz Scaggs, "Look What You've Done to Me"**

 **CSotA xx**

* * *

 _ **Saturday, August 30, 2014:**_ _ **Breakfast at The Cheeky Devil**_

The bells attached to the restaurant's door tinkled loudly as Elsie closed the door behind her.

"Elsie Hughes - _there_ you are! Where have you been keeping yourself, woman?" Beryl Mason's loud voice shouted from the kitchen, making everyone who was seated at the counter turn to wave at Elsie as she made her way to the only empty table in the whole place. She greeted a great many of them as she passed through, clapping the men on the back and clasping hands with a couple of the older women she knew from church.

"Busy, Beryl - like you don't know that, with three kids at our school!" She turned to the waitress and gave her a winning smile. "Morning, Ethel! Coffee, please, when you can find a moment."

"No problem, Elsie - good to see you." Not two minutes later, Ethel deposited a steaming mug in front of Elsie and placed a small carafe and some cream next to it. "That ought to hold you for about five minutes," she joked. "How've you been?

"Busy, but I like it that way. How's Charlie?" Elsie asked kindly.

"Well, thanks. He's coming for a visit on Tuesday, staying through 'til Friday. I can't believe it's been a _month_ since I've seen him. He's so big, Elsie. Doing well with his grandparents, too. They've been a godsend, I have to admit, and I've been saving up a bundle working overtime here. We're starting to plan for him to move back in with me when he's school age, but there's still another year for that."

Elsie smiled sweetly and nodded. Ethel, who'd grown up down the road from where Elsie now lived, had struggled when Charlie was born – postpartum depression had led to abuse of prescription medication, and Ethel's late husband's parents had been asked by Child and Family Services to take Charlie in. It was rough at first, but while Ethel was getting help her son was able to thrive. Thanks to Charlie's compassionate grandmother, Ethel had received visitation rights once a week as soon as she was clean. Once Ethel was released from her treatment program, Elsie had helped her get the job at the _Devil._

"Well, do stop by the farm if you can," Elsie said. "I'd love to see him."

"Will do, thanks. The usual?"

Elsie nodded, and Ethel jotted down something on her order pad. Just then, Elsie heard the bells on the back of the door jingle again. She looked up just in time to see Charles and Daisy Carson walk in the door, and had to chuckle at the sight of Charles looking absolutely dumbfounded at the crowd before him. He scanned the front of the restaurant, evidently looking for a hostess table, and Elsie saw Daisy pull on his hand and point in her direction.

 _Well, now … don't screw this up, Elsie._

She waved them over, indicating that she had two empty seats. The relief on his face was evident, and he allowed Daisy to lead him through the rabbit's warren.

"Ms. Hughes - _Elsie_ ," he corrected. "You weren't kidding about this place - it's absolutely mobbed! How did you get a table so quickly - we saw you walk in as we were coming up the road."

"Well, I'll let you in on the worst-kept secret in town." She lowered her voice conspiratorially as the Carsons took their seats. "Tom Branson breakfasts here every Saturday. When he's about ten minutes from leaving, he texts me to let me know and I head on down. Ethel leaves the table dirty until she spots me." She smiled brightly, and Charles laughed at the cunning of it all.

"A plan like that to get a table at a breakfast spot," he laughed, shaking his head. "I don't believe it!"

"Well, enjoy the brilliance of it, Charles - it provided a seat for you as well!"

Ethel came over with two menus and three glasses of ice water. "Hello, you must be the Carsons. I'm Ethel Bryant - welcome to Misty Cove." She held out her hand, and Charles shook it warmly.

"Pleased to meet you, and I'm not even going to ask how you knew who we were."

"Andy told me," she said with a smile. "We've been going out for a while and he mentioned having met you when you rescued Elsie here. Coffee?"

"Do you have tea?" he enquired.

"Earl Grey - is that alright?"

"Splendid, thank you. Daisy - apple juice?"

 _Nod._

"One Earl Grey and one apple juice, coming right up! I'll give you a moment with the menus as you're new - specials are up on the board," she added, pointing to the whiteboard above Elsie's head. "Els, want me to hold your omelette 'til they order?"

"Yes, thank you."

Charles held out the menu and tried to read it, but the script font made it rather difficult. He patted his pocket and realized he'd left his readers at home, then saw Elsie handing hers across the table. He smiled sheepishly and put them on, nodding his thanks. Daisy giggled, and he blushed a bit.

"Purple frames – they suit you," Elsie teased.

"Banana walnut pancakes?" he muttered, reading the menu. "Eggs Benedict?! Erm, I think _not."_

"Oh Charles, don't take it personally," Elsie teased, her eyebrow raised. "Believe me, if Beryl cooks it, it's amazing."

"I'll take your word for that. I think I'll go for this 'Lumberjack breakfast' - I'm famished, to tell the truth. Daisy?"

Daisy pointed out a few things on the menu, and Elsie made a recommendation. When Ethel returned, Charles added the Lumberjack, one blueberry pancake, one scrambled egg, and one order of toast to Elsie's meal.

"Thank you again for allowing us to join you. We're lucky you didn't end up at one of those small tables for two. I really thought we were just coming in to put our name on the list," Charles said.

"Yes, lucky and _strange._ Tom always sits at one of those, seeing as how he's always alone and I am, too. So odd …" Her brow furrowed, she wondered for a brief moment if he'd _planned_ for her to run into Charles.

 _Oh, don't be stupid, Els. He didn't know they were coming._

She and Charles chatted while Daisy doodled on the back of her placemat. Charles asked a few questions about school, things such as when Open House would be (this coming Thursday evening) and would Elsie be there (no), who organizes the third-grade field trip (Mr. Molesley - 'Thank God', Elsie muttered, earning a smirk from Daisy) and whether or not Charles would be allowed to chaperone (yes, most likely).

Elsie asked about the house and how they were settling in. He knew she was trying to get a more complete picture of Daisy's life, and filled in the blanks as much as he could without being too transparent, lest Daisy figure out that _she_ was the true topic of conversation.

The door bells tinkled once again and the threesome looked up to see Mary Carlisle walk in.

Mary spotted them and made a beeline for their table. "Uncle Charlie! And Daisy!" She bent to kiss Daisy on the cheek, and received a hug in return. "And Ms. Hughes," she added hesitantly. "What a lovely surprise."

Elsie looked at Mary's clearly judgmental expression and gave her a brilliant smile, one which Charles noticed didn't quite reach her eyes. Mary didn't seem to see that, though.

"Hello, Mary. How have you been?" Elsie asked.

"Oh, you know … busy, barely seeing the light of day. But the paper is successful, which is all that really matters, or so I'm told." The distant look in her eyes told Elsie all she needed to know, and confirmed suspicions she'd had for a while now, that the rumors about town were true: Mary Carlisle was unhappy - with her business, perhaps, but most certainly with her _husband_. And who could blame her, really? The man was a total ass.

"That paper is quite an accomplishment," Elsie told the younger woman. "You and Richard have certainly picked it up from the ashes and made it flourish."

Charles cut in, attempting to rescue Elsie from her attempts at kindness. "I'd ask you to join us, my dear, but as it is we're already budging in on Elsie's table."

 _Elsie, is it?_ Mary thought. "Oh, that's fine, Uncle Charlie. I'm here picking our order up to bring it back to the office - called it in a few minutes ago. No time to waste, with the Sunday edition going to print at ten tonight. Saturdays are our busiest day, you know."

She kissed Charles on the cheek and gave her goodbyes. "Hopefully we'll see you soon - come around to dinner, alright Uncle Charlie?"

"We'll try," Charles promised.

"And everything is still alright with the house? You'd say if you needed anything, I hope."

"I would, but everything is perfect, my dear. Thank you again." With that, Mary left and Charles turned back to Elsie.

"Thank you for that," he said quietly, tilting his head in Mary's direction.

"For what?" Elsie asked innocently. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"You do. I can tell that you … don't have the most favorable opinion of certain _situations._ But you managed to gloss over that brilliantly."

"And what makes you so sure of yourself?" she asked, nibbling on her fingernail. "You barely know me, Charles." She observed him with a curious look, not willing to admit he'd been totally right.

Ethel arrived then with their food, which made Daisy's eyes bug out - the pancake she'd ordered was the size of the plate it was served on, and the fresh blueberries were immense.

Charles thanked Ethel and turned back to Elsie with a smile. "I am an attorney, Elsie. I can spot the truth a mile away."

Elsie blushed, but then laughed out loud. "I'll have to remember that, Mr. Carson."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "See that you do, Ms. Hughes," he replied with a smirk.

After they finished breakfast, Charles and Elsie saw that the place had cleared out considerably. Beryl came out of the kitchen, looking as if she'd been through a tornado. She grabbed a cup of coffee and pulled a chair up to Elsie's table for three.

"Beryl!" Elsie leaned over and kissed her friend's cheek. "Breakfast was amazing, as usual. Have you met the Carsons yet?"

"No, but I've heard all about them, of course," she answered, smiling at Charles and Daisy. "Beryl Mason, at your service. I'd shake your hand like a civilized person if I weren't covered in flour and syrup at the moment."

Charles was instantly at ease with the short, slightly round cook. "No worries. Breakfast was absolutely _incredible,_ as Elsie had told me it would be."

Beryl looked back and forth between the adults. "She did, did she? Was that when you rescued her when her horrific excuse for a truck broke down?"

"It's not horrific! It's just … old," she finished lamely. "I've not had the time to shop for a new one, and thought I could squeeze a few more months out of it. Don't you start, Beryl. Besides, Tom managed to fix it for now."

But her friend only laughed. "Be that as it may, I'd say it's a good thing Mr. Carson was there." She turned to Daisy, who was following along with amusement. "And you must be Daisy."

Daisy nodded, smiling at Beryl.

"Do you like it here, Daisy?"

 _Nod._

Charles was worried that Beryl might not be so accepting of Daisy's refusal to speak aloud, but a quick look from Elsie reassured him.

"Tell you what," Beryl whispered to Daisy. "How would you like one of my 'Devil's Own' brownies to take home? I've just put a batch out to cool."

Daisy beamed, nodding furiously.

"On the house - for new customers," she added, for Charles's benefit. "I thank you for coming in. Half the town is here on Saturday mornings, but if you pop in for a cuppa during the week it's much quieter and my husband's here then - Bill's his name. He works the fishing boats on the weekends. Brings me the best of the catch, too. You should come by and meet him."

"That's a great idea," Elsie chimed in. "And you'll never meet a kinder soul than Bill."

Charles smiled. "I will do that, Beryl. Thank you." _No wonder Elsie likes her so much._

As he argued with Elsie over the check (and won, having insisted on paying for her breakfast in thanks for her sharing her table with them), Charles looked around the room. He spotted two people he thought were teachers at the school, the grocer he'd met last week, a table full of fishermen, and a handful of other townspeople that had familiar faces.

"I like it more here every day," he said to Daisy, who nodded her agreement while clutching the bag that contained her enormous brownie.

"Will you come to the church fair next month?" Elsie asked as they headed outside. "It's a good deal of fun, most of the town shows up. Good opportunity to meet more of your neighbors," she added.

"I don't see why we couldn't. We are busy the next two weeks, but then I promised Daisy we'd go apple picking, which Marigold has convinced Daisy is the 'best fun ever,'" Charles said with a smile.

"Ah, lovely - and then you can make a pie!" Elsie winked at Daisy. "Do you know how?"

Daisy shook her head, furrowing her brow and clearly unhappy to be answering in the negative.

"Well, I'll tell you what," Elsie said, squatting down to be more eye-level with Daisy. "If you go apple picking, get some Cortlands - they're very good for pies, and they'll be in by then. Bring about eight of them when you come to the barn, and an extra each for Star and Scarlett, and I'll show you how to make a proper pie ... if it's alright with your Papa, that is."

Both 'ladies' looked up at Charles expectantly, who just shook his head and laughed. "I can see I'm outnumbered _again._ That's becoming something of a habit. I'm going to have to watch out for you two, I see," he added, chucking Daisy gently on the cheek with his knuckle. She smiled, and he offered a hand to help Elsie up - which she took gratefully.

"Not twenty anymore, I suppose," she grumbled, thanking him.

"Don't I know it," he replied.

They reached Elsie's truck and she hopped in, leaving the door open so they could chat a bit more. She turned the key in the ignition so that the engine could run a bit – no sense in stalling out halfway home – and the radio blared out the XM Love Songs station she'd been listening to on the way to the _Devil:_

 _Look what you've done to me_

 _Never thought I'd fall again so easily_

 _Oh, love-_

Elsie flipped the music off, flustered by the words, then sat sideways against her seat back. She felt her temperature rise when Charles stepped into the open doorway and nonchalantly rested his arm on the steering wheel, effectively blocking her in.

 _Hardly a hardship, Elsie._

"So you'll come by with Daisy this Wednesday, meet Anna?" she asked, forcing her mind back to producing sensible conversation.

"I believe so, yes. Miss Baxter rang me yesterday morning, wanted to give me some more information about your therapy program," he said quietly, nodding when Daisy pointed to the nearby playground, a silent question on her face.

"Yes, she mentioned she would be doing that. I am glad you're willing to give it a try. Not all parents are open to something like that."

"Did you know Daisy actually _spoke_ to her yesterday? To Miss Baxter?" he murmured, clearly in awe.

"No! What did she say, if I may ask?"

He was moved by the interest she showed, tried not to let it touch him in ways he had yet to put a name to; that this woman they'd only just met clearly already cared about his daughter … it was almost unfathomable.

He smiled, and she appreciated the way it made the corners of his eyes crinkle, made him even more handsome (if such a thing were possible).

"She said 'yes,'" he answered. "Didn't realize she'd done it! She doesn't plan to let it happen _again_ , I don't think, but she wasn't afraid."

Elsie's heart swelled at the look of happiness on his face. "Charles, that's _wonderful,"_ she told him, placing her hand briefly on his arm.

He felt as though his arm was on fire and swallowed twice, three times, in order to get himself under control. She didn't seem to realize she'd done anything odd, and it had been all he could do not to jump out of his skin.

"It is," he agreed.

Elsie suddenly realized she was squeezing his arm, and withdrew her hand immediately. _Jesus Christ, Elsie, what are you DOING?_

"At what time does the church's fair usually start?" he asked, wishing she'd touch his arm again.

"It starts at nine in the morning, but really picks up at eleven. I'll be at the baked goods table, as usual. Everyone gets a kick out of that, the school nurse selling the junk food."

"We'll be sure to find you then," he smiled, backing up and closing the truck door firmly. He patted the sill of her open window. "Until then, Elsie."

"Until then. And thanks again for breakfast - I owe you." She put the truck in reverse and backed out of her parking spot slowly, willing herself not to open her mouth and say one of the things floating around her mind - words that would, most certainly, embarrass the both of them.

Just then, Daisy reappeared at Charles's side and tugged at his sleeve. He bent down to hear her whisper, "Are we really going to the church fair, Papa?"

"If you'd like to, then yes."

"And Ms. Hughes will be there?"

He paused a moment, wondering what she was getting at. "Yes. Does that bother you, Daisy?"

"Oh, no!" she said, shaking her head. "Can we make sure we visit her table?"

"That we can," he answered, putting his hand on her shoulder as they walked back to their car.

"Good, I _really_ like her."

Charles looked at her for a moment, smiling when she looked at him.

"So do I, Daisy."

 _Very much._


	9. The Church Fair

**A/N: Hello, all you lovely people! Here's a massive chapter to tide you over til Wednesday or so, as I'll be in NYC for the next day and a half. I warn you though, I'm running out of already-written chapters, so updates won't be daily starting next week. Lots more story to go, though.**

 **Special shout out to a few guest reviewers to whom I really wish I could respond personally. Some of your messages truly moved me, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. To the reviewers to whom I *can* respond, know that I am still working through a few replies but I truly appreciate your love and support.**

 **Musical selection here is "Fever," the Peggy Lee version (although there's a great Ray Charles/Natalie Cole one out there, too). :) Please pardon any typos, this hasn't really been beta'd since I rewrote half of it.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Saturday, September 23**_

 _ **7:00 a.m.**_

 _ **Church fair**_

The morning of the fair was sunny but cold. Elsie flew through her farm jobs, knowing both she and Anna would be busy until dinner with the bake sale table. It was one of the biggest money-makers at the entire fair, and they'd been organizing it together for the past three years. The main draw was Anna's amazing apple crisp, but Elsie always made dozens of batches of Scottish shortbread which they knew would sell out by mid-afternoon. They'd spent the last three evenings (along with Phyllis, Beryl, and Bill) cooking their hearts out. All Elsie had to do was swing by _The Cheeky Devil_ and pick it all up at eight.

She was in her truck at 7:50, bundled up in a sweater she knew she'd probably be shedding by nine. There was not a cloud in the sky and only a gentle sea breeze, so her long-sleeved tee and jeans would be perfectly adequate. Elsie was really looking forward to spending the day in the fresh air, with friends stopping by the table all day. And what made it better was that the money raised by the bake sale would go directly to providing coats, hats, and mittens for students in the community this winter. Misty Cove was a successful fishing and farming community, but it certainly wasn't affluent by any means.

 _And what makes today even better than that is that Charles and Daisy will be coming by. I think._

She took a deep breath as she flipped the directional on to pull into the restaurant's back lot. As she slid the gear shift into park, she exhaled again and leaned back on the headrest, trying to figure out what the hell was going on inside her head. She had no business wanting to get involved with the parent of one of her students, and she barely knew Charles at all. And yet she didn't even _care_ that she didn't know him that well because she _felt_ like she'd known him forever. The thought scared the life out of her, too, because Elsie had _never_ felt that way about a man … not even Joe. And that was saying something, given that she'd once thought she and Joe would _always_ be together, that she'd always have her family.

 _Yes, your family. And that's really the elephant in the room, isn't it, Elsie?_

She knew she'd have to tell Charles about all that sooner or later, it couldn't be avoided, even if they were only ever just friends. She'd be mortified if she _didn't_ tell him and he heard it from someone else down the road. Plus, it somehow didn't seem fair that she knew quite a bit about his life with Alice but he knew nothing about _her_ past.

The thing was, she didn't want to be _just_ his friend, and she was becoming quite suspicious that he didn't want to be just _her_ friend. She'd seen something in his eyes when she touched his arm that day, a fleeting glimpse of something that he'd hidden immediately. But Elsie was perceptive, and she could read people exceptionally well - it was part of what made her a good nurse, particularly with children; she could see how people were feeling almost better than they could explain it.

And Charles had felt _something_ , she was certain of it. She'd thought at first that it was unease, but the more she reflected on it the more she thought it was something like … surprise, perhaps. She found that exciting, because it offered a glimmer of hope; it was also frightening, because addressing it meant peeling away the familiar layers of protection that surrounded her heart.

 _Sigh._

All Elsie knew for sure was that every time that she'd seen Charles either before or after school, his warm smile always made her heart skip a beat.

She finally got out of the truck, having decided that she'd see what today brought. After all, she _did_ offer to help Daisy make Charles a pie at some point. If it came out exceptionally well, then there'd be that.

Whistling, she knocked on the back door of the _Devil_.

* * *

 _ **11:30 a.m.**_

"Elsie, we need another tray!" Anna called.

"I'm on it!" She moved out from behind the sales table and made her way into the church, grabbed two more trays of crisp and brought them to Anna. "How's the ice cream?"

"Doing fine there," Anna answered, scooping what felt like the thousandth helping of apple crisp for the girl at the front of the line. Anna recognized her; the girl was one of the kids who'd shown up for therapy at the barn last year. She handed the crisp over with a wink.

"Thank you, Anna," the little girl said softly.

"You're welcome," she replied. "Come visit sometime, hm?"

The girl and her mother both nodded, then made way for the next guest.

"Two, please," came Charles's rumbling voice, "and one package of the shortbread."

Elsie's head flew up. "Well, hello there!" She could feel herself blushing and cursed herself for it. "Coming right up," she added hastily.

Elsie handed Charles the shortbread package and greeted Daisy with a smile as they waited for Anna to portion out the crisp.

"Did you get the apples?" she asked with a wink.

Daisy nodded quickly, smiling a semi-toothless grin as she did so.

"Oh! You've lost a tooth! Congratulations!" Elsie said.

Daisy pulled on Charles's sleeve and he bent down. "What is it, petal?"

She whispered in his ear and he frowned. "I told you we weren't going to press, Daisy …"

Elsie looked at them with a furrowed brow, but then Anna passed her the bowls.

"Here you are," she said, "and that'll be ten fifty."

Charles dug out his wallet and handed over a twenty, telling Elsie to donate the change to their proceeds. Daisy continued pulling at his arm, causing Charles to sigh loudly.

"Fine," he grumbled, defeated.

He looked at Elsie. "Daisy would like to know _when_ you'd be free to help her make the pie. I did tell her we wouldn't be pushy about it," he added, shooting Daisy a cross look that she ignored.

"Oh, it's no worry, really. It'll be my pleasure. How's tomorrow, after church perhaps? I've got nothing going on, and the apples are so fresh … it'd be a shame to let them sit."

"That would work, I think," Charles said thoughtfully.

"Good. Perhaps you can just leave her at the farm for the afternoon?" Elsie added, winking at Daisy. "Because it really should be a _surprise_ when he sees it, shouldn't it, Daisy?"

Daisy beamed at her, nodding some more.

"And we can sneak in some time with Scarlett and Star, too, perhaps?" Elsie added, after which Charles thought Daisy would simply burst with excitement.

"I do believe that's a plan," he smirked. "And I'll be able to get some work done at the same time, which is even better. I'll bring her by around … two?"

"Perfect." She smiled sweetly, burying her nerves, but they had to move on quickly as the line was starting to build up again.

"See you at church, then," she called.

 _Whew._

* * *

 _ **Sunday, September 24**_

One last look in the mirror, then Elsie grabbed her purse and headed out the door. She had changed three times and _still_ was unhappy with her outfit. No matter now - she'd be late for church if she changed it one more time - so the black trousers and slightly-fitted jade sweater it would have to be. She knew she looked good, though, and smiled as she climbed into the truck.

The drive to church took about ten minutes. Some Peggy Lee came on the satellite radio, and Elsie cracked open the windows and turned up the music, singing along:

 _Sun lights up the daytime_

 _Moon lights up the night_

 _I light up when you call my name_

 _And you know I'm gonna treat you right_

 _You give me fever when you kiss me_

 _Fever when you hold me tight_

 _Fever in the mornin'_

 _A fever all through the night…_

Elsie leaned over and flipped the radio off, images of Charles holding her in the wee hours of the morning flitting through her head.

 _Get a grip, woman!_

Five minutes after Elsie settled herself in a pew she noticed the Carsons sneak into the church during the opening prayer. They ended up sitting across the aisle and two pews ahead of her, and she smirked as Charles looked around and did a double-take when he spotted her.

 _Yes,_ she thought, _perhaps this was the right sweater after all._

She managed to make it through all the hymns, happy that they were all favorites of hers today. She tried to look ahead and not let her mind or eyes wander back to Charles and Daisy … until the closing hymn, that is, when she was distracted by Daisy reach for the hymnal.

 _No …_

But - _yes, she's moving her lips._ Elsie wasn't sure if Daisy was actually _singing,_ but she could see her progressing through the hymn.

For the first time, she wondered what kind of voice Daisy had. Was it deep like her father's, or soft and lilting? High-pitched, perhaps, to match her small stature? Did she sing? Would she speak like the other schoolchildren, or would she have her father's fine elocution? If she _did_ speak like Charles, would that be a problem? Would she be bullied?

And then she shook her head and forced her thoughts back to the service, before she was caught staring.

Unfortunately, she had been caught already, for Mary Carlisle was watching Elsie with no small amount of interest.

* * *

The Volvo pulled into the drive at two o'clock on the dot and Max went running out, already recognizing the car as the one that carried his new friend. He sat at the edge of the walkway and wagged his tail, then jumped up and headed straight for Daisy's welcoming arms as soon as she stepped out. Charles just shook his head, knowing how much Daisy wanted a dog and hoping that Max could be some small substitute for having one of her own.

"Hello!" came Elsie's voice from down the driveway. "I'll be up in a moment!"

Charles walked down the drive, leaving Daisy and Max to play, and tried to determine where Elsie's voice had come from.

"Is there anything I can do to help you?" he called. But then he turned the corner around the house and promptly bumped into her … well, to be more accurate, into her bale of hay.

"No, I'm all set - just need to drop this in the barn," Elsie answered, blowing a wisp of hair out of her face. She was carrying the hay by holding on to the two straps that bound it, and he appreciated how the muscles were so noticeable in her forearms. He wondered if her legs were just as strong - _they must be,_ he reasoned - and he wondered how they'd feel wrapped around-

"Charles?" Her voice broke through his thoughts, and he flushed dramatically, faking a cough to try and cover up the embarrassment.

"Are you alright?" She hefted the bundle higher and continued on toward the barn, an amused look on her face that he couldn't quite see as he trailed behind her.

"Fine - a tickle," he gasped.

Elsie just raised an eyebrow in his general direction and tossed the hay on the barn floor.

He looked at her properly then, realizing something.

"You changed your clothes," he uttered stupidly.

Elsie's laugh caught him off guard. "Oh, very good, Charles," she teased. "I do try not to do farm chores in cashmere," she added lightly. "Would you care to stay for a bit?"

"No, I'll head home, if that's alright with you. Daisy has instructions to text me on your phone if anything … happens," he finished weakly, his gaze willing Elsie to understand. "It that's alright," he added quickly.

"Of course. I'll see that she does if need be, but I have faith that we'll be fine. Shall we say … five thirty?"

"Perfect."

Elsie walked him back to his car, heading around to his driver's side door and laying her hand on the open door, each of them remembering the conversation outside of the restaurant.

"She's really looking forward to this. Thank you," he said sincerely. Then he paused, trying to find a way to voice the rest.

"You and Miss Baxter have both been so very patient with Daisy, and very caring. She values that more than you know, I think. I'm sure you'll be fine alone together, but if you need me for anything …"

Elsie smiled sweetly. "That's kind of you to say, and I appreciate it. And don't worry, we _will_ be fine," she reassured him, reaching in to squeeze his shoulder gently before withdrawing her hand. "Until five thirty."

"Yes," Charles managed, his shoulder tingling where she'd just touched it. "See you then."

* * *

"Alright, Daisy, here's what we're going to do," Elsie said, pushing a pad of paper across the table toward the girl.

They were seated in her dining area. Elsie had fetched Daisy from the side yard, where she'd been tumbling around with Max, and had sent her in to get washed up. That task completed, she'd sat her at the table with a cup of tea, a snack, a pencil, and a pad of notebook paper.

"I've been making this since I was a little girl," Elsie said quietly, "and I have it memorized. But _you_ are going to need to write it down, alright?"

 _Nod._

"Alright, so we start with very cold butter, cut into pieces …" Elsie dictated the recipe slowly and patiently while Daisy wrote it down, ingredient by ingredient, stopping only to spell "shortening" and "vinegar" when Daisy's brow furrowed. Elsie noticed that the girl had the habit of sticking the tip of her tongue out when she concentrated on something, and Daisy caught her looking and pulled her tongue back in her mouth instantly.

Elsie chuckled. "Oh, don't mind me. I chew on my lip when I'm worried or concentrating - it helps me focus, I think," she said. "I was forever being spoken to about it when I was a young lass, but it did no good," she added with a wink. Daisy's shoulder shuddered briefly, and Elsie realized that the girl had almost laughed. She smiled at her, and got up to refill their tea.

 _Progress, perhaps?_ She added the milk and sugar and returned to the table. "Alright, so what we'll do is measure out all the ingredients first, and then put the crust together. It needs to go in the refrigerator for a bit so that it's quite cold when we use it. While we're waiting for that, we can go out and spend some time with the horses, and then come back in and get the apples ready. How does that sound?"

 _Nod._

"Have you ever cooked before, Daisy?"

Daisy looked sad, and shook her head: _No._

"But … you _would_ like to learn?" Elsie enquired, tilting her head as she considered the girl before her.

 _Nod._

"Alright, then, we'll see what we can do."

Elsie brought the girl into the kitchen and dug through the cabinets for a mixing bowl and the appropriate measuring materials.

"I learned to cook as a lass in Scotland, and things are measured differently here, as you know from school. We'll measure the ingredients on the scale to be sure they're exact; otherwise, the crust would be either too hard or would fall apart."

She proceeded to show Daisy how to use the food scale, the flour sifter, and how to cut the butter in small cubes. Daisy looked a bit afraid at the size of the knife, but Elsie reassured her.

"It is sharp, but it's easier to cut yourself when it's dull, even though that sounds wrong. Just be careful, and keep your hands out of the way of the blade." She placed the butter on the marble board, and helped Daisy with the first cut. The knife sliced through the butter easily, and Daisy was instantly relieved, and she made quick work of the rest.

"Now we just combine it all in the bowl, in the order in which we have it written down."

Daisy consulted the recipe and added the ingredients slowly, mindful not to spill the flour everywhere.

"Very good," Elsie encouraged, gently patting her on the shoulder. She handed Daisy a pastry cutter, and showed her how to use it. _Well, this is where our lesson can all fall apart,_ Elsie thought, knowing that cutting the ingredients together was a pain.

But Daisy managed admirably, landing very little of the ingredients on the counter. She was clearly frustrated with how long it took, but - of course - didn't voice a complaint.

"Excellent, Daisy! Now we add in the other ingredients …" She helped Daisy follow through the instructions, praising her for doing such a splendid job.

"Now just toss some flour on the board, then put the dough onto it and pat it out a bit with your hands. Then divide it in half, and roll it out into two circles." She demonstrated, then left Daisy to finish the job. Once they had two fairly uniform circles, Elsie wrapped them and set them in the refrigerator to chill.

"Let's wash up and head on outside, shall we? Did you bring an extra apple for Star and Scarlett?"

 _Nod._

"Then let's go! They'll love you forever, you know."

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed very easily. Daisy helped Elsie to brush the horses down, and Elsie noticed her whispering in Scarlett's ear.

 _Perfect,_ Elsie thought warmly. _What a kind soul you are, Daisy Carson._

After about an hour, they went back in. Elsie helped Daisy to peel the apples, but she made Daisy cut them into small pieces for the filling. They measured out sugar and cinnamon, added a touch of ground clove and nutmeg, and a spoonful of cornstarch. Daisy mixed it all together in the bowl, and then Elsie showed her how to roll out the crust and place it into the pie dish by folding it over the rolling pin. Daisy finished assembling everything, vented the top crust and applied an egg wash, and popped it in the oven. It then occurred to Elsie that they'd still have a little over an hour to kill.

"How would you like to meet the chickens?" Elsie asked. Daisy smiled and nodded, and Elsie handed her a basket.

"I was supposed to gather the eggs this morning, but I didn't have a chance," Elsie admitted, thinking back to her wardrobe struggle. "I bet there are at least ten eggs out there today. We'll gather them and get them in this basket, then get the girls outside for a bit, alright?"

Elsie had Daisy put the barn boots on again, and they made their way into the chicken coop. Daisy was naturally a bit skittish, the loud clucking in the small hen house being rather overwhelming, but Elsie encouraged her to just approach the hens calmly.

"Leave that one be," Elsie warned, pointed to a Silkie at the end of the row. "She won't like you touching her eggs and she might peck at you. I'll get hers when we've done the others. Now," she coached, "just like this …"

A few minutes later, Daisy had obtained five eggs and Elsie three.

"Not quite what I'd hoped for, but not bad regardless. Now, you must wash your hands before we do anything else, as these eggs haven't been treated and can carry bacteria."

Daisy nodded and washed up at the laundry sink Elsie had rigged up in the adjacent barn, and then she helped Elsie put the chickens out and feed them.

Daisy thought this was the best day she'd had in ages. She absolutely _loved_ Ms. Hughes, and she knew her Papa liked her as well. He smiled a bit when they discussed her, and he'd certainly been talking about her and the farm a lot. At first, Daisy wasn't sure what to make of that, but she decided not to worry about it. _Everyone_ loved Ms. Hughes at school - even that bully boy Thomas had a kind word to say for her. Come to think of it, Daisy recalled seeing him in the nurse's office several times since she started at school, but it didn't matter. Daisy spent a lot of time in Miss Baxter's office and certainly wouldn't want to have to explain _that_ to anyone.

But today was the best day yet. She'd gone to church with her Papa and her favorite hymn had been sung. She _almost_ allowed herself to join in, but decided she'd just mouth the words. She heard Ms. Hughes singing, though - _her_ voice had carried clearly throughout the small church and it was very pretty. Daisy loved music, and wondered of Ms. Hughes sang _outside_ of church as well.

 _Perhaps, someday, I can ask her._

Daisy struggled so much with wanting to speak, but she just didn't feel ready yet. She knew that when you talk to people you can become close to them. She couldn't bear the thought of not speaking with her Papa, but she knew that if she spoke to anyone _else_ they'd want to ask questions about her Mummy: why she moved away, how she died, how Daisy was _feeling,_ and other things that Daisy didn't want to talk about _at all_.

But Ms. Hughes just might be different. She never said anything to Daisy about her Mummy, and Daisy knew that Ms. Hughes _knew_ things. She was friends with Auntie Edith, and also with Miss Baxter, and they knew _everything_ about what happened to her Mummy.

But Ms. Hughes never brought Mummy up, she just did fun things with Daisy and, today, even taught her how to cook something, how to measure and pour and mix and roll out the dough, how to cut the apples. She shared a recipe from her own family, and Daisy thought that she was a very lucky girl to have that happen, because certainly no one else from the school was getting to learn those things from the nurse. It made her feel special, and important … and cared for.

She indicated with a wave of her hand that she wanted to go back in the barn, and Ms. Hughes nodded. Daisy went back in so that she could pet Scarlett; she whispered all of her feelings into the horse's non-judgmental ear … and received a nuzzle on her neck in return. It tickled, and she let out a little giggle.

Elsie smiled as she heard the sweet, angelic sound … and just kept on walking by the barn door.

 _Ahhh, Scarlett, my beautiful girl. Good job … you just keep loving on that little lass, and she'll come around eventually._

* * *

Daisy joined Elsie in the house just as the timer was buzzing.

"Time to see what we've got!" Elsie said. Daisy left the boots out on the front step (they were rather disgusting after having been in the hen house) and rushed into the kitchen, stopping to wash her hands at the sink.

"Good girl," Elsie praised, and Daisy felt quite proud of herself.

Elsie handed Daisy two oven mitts and had her put them on. Daisy furrowed her brow, questioning.

"Oh, yes, _you_ are taking it out, lass," Elsie said encouragingly. "All I've done was peel a couple of apples and show you how to divide the crust. This is most certainly _your_ pie."

Daisy took a deep breath and nodded, and Elsie opened the oven door.

Daisy had thought the house smelled quite lovely when she'd come in, but it was nothing compared to the smell that assaulted her senses now, and the only thing she could think of was how much her Papa was going to _love_ this pie.

The surface was golden brown, just the right color, and she could see the filling was thick and bubbly as she peeked through the little design that she'd cut into the top crust. She already knew how heavy it was, and Ms. Hughes was standing by with her own oven mitts 'just in case,' but Daisy managed it on her own, grateful that Ms. Hughes had set the pie on a sheet pan in case it dripped, because it was much easier to grasp that way. The tip of her tongue sticking out, Daisy carried the tray carefully to the trivets on the counter and set it down.

"Well done, Daisy! Your Papa is going to be _thrilled_ with this," Elsie said. Then she squinted her eyes a bit and raised an eyebrow at Daisy and added, "Are you _sure_ this is your first pie? You're not tricking me, are you?"

Daisy giggled, then promptly covered her mouth with both hands, forgetting that her hands were stuffed into pot holders and softly slapping herself with the mitts. That made Elsie laugh as well, which in turn made Daisy dissolve into a fit of quiet - but audible - giggles.

They didn't hear Charles's car pull up, nor did they hear Max bark from the other end of Elsie's property. When he knocked on the screen door he was drawn to the sound of Elsie's laughter, and any worries he'd had about how Daisy had done vanished instantly.

He was not, however, prepared for the scene which greeted him as he let himself into the house; for there, seated on the kitchen floor and leaning against the refrigerator and its neighboring cabinet, were Elsie and Daisy - laughing hysterically, tears pouring down their faces as they wiped at them with oven mitts … something that was apparently causing them to laugh even _more._

"Daisy?" he called softly, not wanting to startle them. "What on _Earth …?"_

Daisy looked up at her Papa and jumped up from the floor. She ran over to him and enveloped him in a hug, tugging frantically on his arm as she started to hiccup from all the laughing. He bent down to hear her.

"Papa! I had the most wonderful time! Wait until you see the pie!" she whispered ecstatically.

His eyes traveled over to Elsie, who was just getting up off the floor.

"Well, hello there," she said, gasping for air as she got her laughter under control.

"It's a shame you ladies didn't have any fun," he said, winking at Daisy.

"Isn't it?" Elsie said, smiling brilliantly. "By the way," she added, "your daughter has the potential to be a fabulous cook. I peeled exactly three apples today, and she did everything - and I mean _everything_ \- else."

His bushy eyebrows flew up as he contemplated both his daughter and Elsie. "Even the cutting?" he asked, concerned.

"Even the cutting," Elsie nodded. "She was quite careful, and I was right there. But she was not afraid, which is the first step. You should cook with Daisy at home, you know! She's quite a good student and very eager to learn."

"Perhaps I shall," he said, smiling fondly at his daughter. "Now, where is this pie that I could smell from my car?"

Daisy pulled his hand, tugging him over to the counter.

"You did _not_ make this," Charles stated as soon as he saw the pie. "You bought this from _The Cheeky Devil."_

Daisy shook her head frantically, and his eyes widened in mock amazement. "Truly - this is really yourdoing? Daisy, this is _lovely."_

Daisy beamed, and Elsie felt a powerful feeling creep into her chest as she watched them. She recognized it immediately and tried, somewhat successfully, to banish it before it could take root.

"Let me just go get a box for that, to keep it safe in the car," she muttered, heading down the basement stairs quickly. She went over to the shelf where she kept empty box tops from the cases of paper at school, which she'd found long ago were useful for a variety of things. She reached up and wiped angrily at her tears, willing them to go away until the Carsons left.

She rolled a clean towel and nestled it around the edges of the box, then put another smaller cloth in the bottom so that the heat from the pie wouldn't scorch the cardboard. She took another moment to get her emotions fully under control and then headed back upstairs.

"Here we go," she said, a bit too cheerfully. "The pie will be fine in this. Just set it on the floor of the car and it shouldn't move."

"Would you like to join us for dinner, and share in the pie as dessert?" Charles offered suddenly.

Elsie offered a half smile, but shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. I have some paperwork to get caught up on, I'm afraid, but I thank you for the invitation. You'll have to let me know what you think of the pie, though."

Charles felt his heart sink a little, but nodded. "I shall." He mentally flipped through his calendar, then added, "How about on Friday? The weather should be nice and Max could run on the beach with Daisy?"

Elsie cocked her head, contemplating. "That might work … but let me bring dinner this time." She looked at Daisy. "Do you like pizza?"

 _Emphatic nod._

"That sounds like an _excellent_ plan," Charles said, smiling. He looked at Daisy and asked, "Are you ready, petal?"

Daisy nodded again and Charles retrieved the box from the counter, into which Daisy placed her carefully-folded recipe. She started to follow her Papa to the door, then stopped and turned. She ran back to Elsie and wrapped her up in a fierce hug.

"I am glad you had fun, Daisy," Elsie said.

Daisy looked up at her, contemplated something, and nodded.

" _I did,"_ she whispered. She nodded again, then turned and ran back to her Papa, smiling at the astonished look on his face.

"Have a good evening, Elsie - and thank you, again," he said meaningfully. He was clearly still in awe, and Elsie nodded and smiled.

"You are most welcome."

She stood at the door and watched them get into the car, kept watching as Charles placed the pie on the floor of the back seat and as Daisy buckled her seat belt.

"Keep an eye on that," Elsie heard him say as he pointed to the pie, and she saw Daisy nod.

As they pulled away, Elsie was rooted to the spot, watching the car as it got smaller and smaller until, at last, it disappeared completely around the corner of her street.

She reached up and wiped at her face again, having finally let the tears fall. Today's experience with Daisy wasn't _at all_ what Elsie expected. She often had children from school at her home, of course, because some of them were sent to her for the equine therapy program. She'd never cooked with them, but that was such a small detail.

But _never_ had she allowed a child to get as close to her as Daisy had in the short time since the Carsons had come to Misty Cove, and she almost cursed herself for it now. That little girl, in all her sweetness - and her Papa, in all his glorious kindness - were implanting themselves into Elsie's heart in a way that she was no longer able to fight. She knew she'd have to be very, very careful if anything further came of it, but she couldn't help but feel that glimmer of hope once again.

Elsie finally accepted today that she cared a great deal for Daisy, and for Charles as well, and it wasn't just that she was attracted to Charles's good looks or charmed by Daisy's sweetness, but that she truly _cared_ for them in a way that was more than just professional or even neighborly. Having been witness to the young lass's laughter – and having actually _heard_ a whisper of her voice - had stopped Elsie dead in her tracks, and it had brought to the surface feelings that she'd buried long ago, on the day Joe had died.

She wasn't sure, but she felt she might finally be ready to keep those feelings unearthed, to deal with them once and for all this time.

* * *

 **A wee little review for the author, please? :) Thank you! x**


	10. A Date

**A/N: Well, I had the option of one mahoosive chapter, or two shorter ones. Sorry, this is the shorter chapter option. But I promise that its continuation will come soon.**

 **I would be remiss in not thanking, once again, all of you fabulous reviewers. The guest reviewers in particular deserve a shout-out, because I can't reply to you individually at all via this website (even if you put your name in the name slot). Two of your reviews moved me to tears, and one of them had me smiling all day. I can't thank you enough for all the love.**

 **And, without further ado, I believe I promised you all a date. :)**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Friday, October 3**_

Fridays always found Elsie elbow-deep in paperwork - which meant, of course, that the phone rang incessantly.

"Good morning, school nurse's office," she answered, tucking the receiver under her chin so that she could continue sifting through her papers while she took the call.

"Elsie? It's Charles Carson."

Elsie silently congratulated herself for not dropping the phone completely. "Charles," she said, surprised, her smile evident to him in the sound of her voice. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm calling about tonight. Erm … well, it appears that Daisy is spending the night at Edith's. Edith just called to work out the details."

"I see," Elsie said, completely deflated. "And you could use a quiet night to yourself?"

"No!" he answered, almost too quickly. "That is, no, that's not quite what I meant."

"Oh?"

"No. But I knew your plan was to bring pizza or something to the house, and I wondered ..." _Bite the bullet, Charlie …_ "I wondered if you'd like to go out instead? With me? Only, I don't know much about the area, so you'd have to pick the spot."

Elsie's mind whirred as she tried to digest all of the opportunities this conversation threw in her lap. "I see. Well, then … I think that's a splendid idea - on one condition."

"Yes?" His heart was pounding as he realized that he was (hopefully) thirty seconds from setting up an actual _date_ with Elsie Hughes.

"You allow _me_ to take _you_ out." She interrupted his protests, silencing him after only a few syllables. "I insist, Charles. You've been so kind to me since you arrived. You rescued me when my truck died, brought dinner to my home, and picked up the check at breakfast not once, but _twice_ now. I won't take no for an answer. I'm Scottish, remember - very stubborn."

He sighed, his unease with allowing her to pay for dinner at war with his desire to see her, to spend time with her on a proper date.

"Alright, then," he gave in. "I can see that you've left me no choice. Did you have somewhere in mind?"

"Actually, yes," she said, silently celebrating that he really _did_ have a choice but had ignored the idea of not going out with her at all. "But give me a couple of hours to see if I can arrange it. I've got to get this paperwork finished and then it's lunchtime meds, and I'll call afterward to see about reservations."

"Reservations? Is it posh? That's not necessary, Elsie."

"Oh, hush," she admonished. "It's my favorite place and, yes, it's a bit on the upscale side, but you'll love it. Trust me," she added at the last minute.

"I do," he said, with just a little wonder in his voice.

"I'll ring you back around two."

"I'll be waiting," he said. Elsie could hear the smile in his voice.

* * *

When his phone buzzed just after two, Charles had to force himself to allow three rings to sound before answering it. It wouldn't do to have Elsie aware that he'd been holding the phone in his breast pocket ever since he'd hung up with her earlier, terrified that he'd miss her call.

"Hello?"

"Charles, it's Elsie. We're all set - reservations at seven. Dress is smart, but not terribly so. You'll probably be comfortable in anything from a casual jacket and tie to a more formal business suit."

"Alright, then. Shall I pick you up or would you like to give me directions so that I can meet you?"

She noticed that _her_ picking _him_ up wasn't an option that he'd offered, and thought there was something rather chivalrous in that; it made her feel like a _lady_ instead of just a farmer or a nurse, and she definitely appreciated that.

"Well, it's actually not local - about forty-five minutes away, maybe, depending on traffic. Why don't you pick me up, and then I can either drive from my house or direct you?"

"Perfect. I'll see you around six, then?"

"See you then," she said, hanging up the phone and smiling.

"Well, well," came the soft voice from the doorway. "Do you have a _date,_ Ms. Hughes?"

"Phyllis! Oh, my goodness, you scared the life out of me. Um … perhaps," she said, nodding toward the door to indicate that it really needed to be closed.

Phyllis complied and then practically jumped into the chair next to her friend's desk. "Elsie, I've never known you to go out on a date. Dare I ask with _whom_ you're heading out on this fine Friday?"

"You can ask," she began, "but I'm not sure you'll like the answer."

Phyllis just waited, and finally Elsie sighed.

"It's Charles Carson," she whispered, "and if you tell _anyone,_ so help me, Phyllis …"

"Oh, I never would! I must admit, though, it wouldn't come as a surprise to many people."

"What?" Elsie looked horrified at the thought.

"Well," Phyllis said, "Edith was saying the other day how pleased Mr. Carson has been with Daisy's experience here so far - and he specifically mentioned the connection she seems to have forged with _you_ and how she just loves the working with the horses. Then there was Andy, who ran into me at the general store a while back and told me Mr. Carson had picked you up the day your truck broke down, and then of course you were having breakfast together last weekend _and_ at least one other time, and then-"

"Alright, alright," Elsie admitted sheepishly. "Small town, I know. I should have expected it."

"But, Elsie," Phyllis asked kindly, "are you sure?"

Elsie looked at her friend and gave her a shy smile. "Phyllis, I have no idea what makes me even say this, but I don't think I have ever been so sure of _anyone_. He's kind, and intelligent, and thoughtful …"

"… and handsome?" Phyllis supplied. "And has a sweetheart for a daughter?"

"Yes, and those things, too. Oh, Phyllis," Elsie sighed, reaching up to tuck a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear, "do you think I'm being very foolish? I suppose you think I hardly know the man, and he and Daisy _have_ been through hell."

"They're not the only ones," Phyllis reminded her.

Elsie frowned. "Yes, and then there's _that_. I know much more about _him_ than he knows about _me."_

"You'll have to tell him, you know."

"I know that!" Elsie snapped. Phyllis's hurt look startled her, and she softened immediately. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just … well, I _have_ thought of that. Of course I have. But I don't want to burden him with it, if that makes sense."

"It does, but if this date turns into something serious, you'll owe it to him to be up front as soon as possible. Something tells me Charles Carson doesn't do well with dishonesty. He seems to be the most stand-up man on the planet." She paused a moment, considering whether or not to continue, but Elsie raised an eyebrow at her in expectation.

Phyllis sighed. "I am sure he'd understand your reservations, Elsie, and I don't think he will question your motives like you think he might. But if it goes further than dinner, please just be honest with the man. It's clear to me that you care for him a great deal already, and I don't think that's a one-way street," she finished, reaching out to pat Elsie's hand as she got up from her chair.

"I know, and I promise I _will_ tell him. And, Phyllis? Thank you."

"Anytime, love," Phyllis answered, squeezing Elsie's shoulder as she made her way out of the office.

* * *

Elsie rushed home as soon as she could. She checked in with Anna, who was mucking out the stalls, and set it up for Anna to square all the animals away tonight. She then headed into the house for a relaxing bath, emerging from the bathroom an hour later practically steam-cleaned. She had to admit it: she felt like a new woman.

She fed Max early and took some time to polish her nails - a deep red, she thought, to match the color of the dress she planned to wear. After the lacquer dried, Elsie went to get dressed. Her plan was to be ready fifteen minutes before Charles arrived at her door - and thank goodness she'd allowed for that extra time.

She ran through two pairs of pantyhose before swearing loudly and digging out her garter and stockings. The sexiness would be lost since he'd never even see it, she figured, but what the hell? The damned stockings were just much easier to put on! She needed to iron a wrinkle out of the dress, too, and dig out the black patent pumps that she always wore with it. She put the finishing touches on her hair - worn down, which she never did at work - and curled, and added a bit of her favorite perfume to finish the picture.

She was ready at 5:52. At 5:57, Max's bark let her know that Charles was here, and her heart hammered in her chest.

 _Oh, Elsie girl, you HAVE to calm down. It's only dinner …_ The door chime sounded, and she went to open it.

"Hello, Charles," she said, and then gasped as he pulled a small bouquet of white roses from behind his back. "Oh, you shouldn't have."

Charles heard her gorgeous voice say something - he was relatively certain that it was a greeting - but he couldn't make his mind focus on what it had been. He practically thrust the roses at her, embarrassed at how completely _not smoothly_ this appeared to be going. He just couldn't tear his eyes off of her.

"Elsie?" he managed. "You look … _stunning."_

Elsie blushed, the color evident as it crept from her chest to the roots of her hair.

Charles continued to stare at her, his eyes raking up and down her body in a way that was most definitely _not_ appropriate, but he couldn't help himself. Her hair was gently curled - much longer than he'd thought it was at a few inches past her shoulders. He noticed some strands of gray, not enough to detract from the gorgeous, auburn color of the rest, but enough to show she had some experience with life. He rather liked that, and he longed to just run his hands through it all and kiss her.

The dress, though … _oh, that dress._ It was velvet and very fitted to her trim, muscular frame, cut in a V across her chest, where she was wearing a single diamond pendant. In her ears, she was wearing the matching earrings. He was surprised to find that she seemed _taller,_ and then realized it was the three-inch heels she was wearing.

"How - How do women manage those?" he stammered foolishly, pointing at her shoes.

Elsie shook her head and laughed. "It's a necessary evil for some of us, Charles. Please," she said, stepping back, "come on in. I should get these in water. They're lovely, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"It was my pleasure. A beautiful woman _should_ receive flowers on a first … date." It appeared it was his turn to blush.

"And is this a date, Mr. Carson?" she whispered.

He looked her in the eyes, then - noticing for not the first time that they were so deeply blue they were almost violet. "I do hope so, Ms. Hughes," he replied, an eyebrow raised.

* * *

The ride to the restaurant was pleasant, with Elsie telling Charles more about the farm and how she'd improved it from the poor condition it had been in when she bought it long ago. She told him about how her horses were both rescue animals - and half the chickens, too. She talked about how a family of ducks lived in the pond during the summer, and about her sadness at the knowledge that at least one duckling had been lost to a fox.

Charles filled in some gaps in his own story - particularly the aspects of his job, which Elsie was rather interested in. She had a basic knowledge of and appreciation for law, which had surprised him; in his experience, most people's experience with solicitors was quite negative. But, as she explained, Elsie had turned her farm into a business about five years ago, and so she'd done some work with a corporate attorney.

"Oh! Turn here," she said suddenly, indicating a small side street. "Park anywhere you can find a spot, and we'll walk."

"Alright." Charles deftly parallel-parked, and headed over to Elsie's door to help her out of the car.

"It's about three blocks down," she explained, taking his elbow with a smile as he offered it to her. They walked in silence, but it was comfortable - a companionable quiet, as opposed to something they felt had to be filled with meaningless chatter. Charles appreciated that Elsie appeared to be the same as him in that regard; it was the complete opposite of being with Alice, who had seemingly always felt the need to hear herself speak.

"Ah, here we are!" Elsie said brightly, pointing at a large staircase beside which sat two … _lions?_

"Wait a minute," Charles said, stunned. "The restaurant is a … _library?"_

"Yes," Elsie answered, clearly happy that he was so surprised. "And it's _lovely._ Come on, then." She tugged on his elbow, and took a moment to appreciate the 'kid-in-a-candy-store' look on his face.

 _Bingo,_ she thought proudly.

"Reservation for Hughes, please," she told the maître-d'hôtel.

"Of course, Ms. Hughes. Follow me, please." He led the way, and Elsie walked in beside Charles, who was still marveling at their surroundings.

The maître-d' made to hold out Elsie's chair for her, but Charles beat him to it. After he and Elsie were seated, the menus and a wine list were handed to them, and they were left to themselves for a few moments. The table Elsie had specifically requested was tucked into a corner near the fireplace.

"It's a shame it's not winter, you know," she said quietly. "When the fireplace is lit and it's decorated outside with snow and Christmas lights, the place becomes almost magical."

"I think it's magical just the way it is," Charles breathed, looking around. The deep, rich wood of the bookshelves, the books themselves, the tables clad in linen and the tuxedoed wait staff all made for an impressive picture, indeed.

"I suspected you might," Elsie said. "And the books are completely real - you can peruse them while you're waiting for your dinner."

He looked up at her then, and her heart did a little flip when he said, "Not tonight, I think. I'd much rather speak with you."

They ordered their food - steaks for both of them, rare for him and medium-rare for her, and shared servings of baked potato and asparagus. "Trust me," Elsie had said, "the side orders can easily feed a small army. One of each should be just fine."

The restaurant was famous for its bourbon selection, but Elsie asked Charles to choose a bottle of wine for them. He'd mentioned that wine was somewhat of a hobby of his, and she knew very little about it. Thus settled, Elsie filled him in a bit on the restaurant.

"The original building was constructed in the late 1700's, the home of a judge, actually. But most of it burned down a hundred years later - save for the octagonal dining room. The man who owned it at that time had the place completely rebuilt around the dining room, expanding far beyond the size of the original home. In 1975, it was turned into a restaurant, with a library theme that brings us right back to the old judge's home."*

"It's quite remarkable," Charles said, awestruck at the history of the place. "Thank you for thinking to bring me here. I'm not sure how you knew I'd like it, but I'm grateful."

They both relaxed as the wine settled in and, before they knew it, two hours had passed and they were sharing a dessert. Elsie raced Charles for the last bite, and won, much to his chagrin.

"I'm a fiend for a good pudding," he admitted, "but my doctor keeps telling me off for it." He tapped his chest. "Heart trouble in the past … I'm supposed to be watching it."

"Well, I'll have to keep an eye on you, then," Elsie said with a wink. She waved for the waiter to bring the check, which she paid as promised despite Charles's protests.

"Elsie, it's too much," he insisted.

"I don't want to hear it, Charles," she scolded him gently.

He sat back, contemplating the beautiful woman before him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed the company of another adult as much as he did Elsie's.

"Then let me offer you a nightcap when we get back to Misty Cove," he offered, sending her a gentle smile.

Elsie leaned back in her own chair and tilted her head. It took about five seconds for her to decide.

"Alright, thank you."

 ** _TBC ..._**

* * *

 ***The Library Restaurant - real place. :) Very cool. Please drop me a note and let me know what you thought! x**


	11. A Nightcap

**A/N: Pushing the rating here a bit, but not quite an *M* (yet).**

 **Um … this is the chapter you've been waiting for, I think! :) Well, most of you anyhow. I do hope the person who wished for things not to go this way doesn't hate me for it. It's been written this way for a LONG time, though, so I didn't want to change it.**

 **Let me know what you think! xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

As Charles pulled the car up to his house, Elsie just stared open-mouthed at the property itself. She'd seen the house from the beach side on her many late-afternoon walks, and she had glimpsed it from the road, but she'd never trespassed down the driveway to get a closer peek. From the back, the house was rather impressive indeed; from the front, however, it was truly breathtaking.

While not immense in overall size, the attention to detail was extraordinary. The façade was stone, with a columned porch. The lower half of the porch was walled-in, giving shelter from stormy weather. There was a swing on the porch, a glider built for two where one could sit and read and, no doubt, watch the sunrise, and there was also a rather large and comfortable-looking sofa, set against the wall so that it would be quite well protected from the elements. The windows above and to the side of the porch were numerous and large, and Elsie knew that the sunlight pouring in them would mean that very little artificial light would be needed in those rooms during the earlier parts of the day.

But the detail that she found most beautiful of all was the enormous bay window. It jutted out to the right of the porch and she imagined a rather lovely window seat on which Daisy could read and draw. The window made her think that the room would be like a solarium in the morning hours, and from the faint lamplight that shone from inside she could make out a rather large shape. _Wait … what's that? Oh, a_ _piano_ _._

"It's stunning," she said, bringing herself out of her reverie as Charles shifted the car in park. "I never knew. I mean, I've seen it from the beach side, but didn't know there was all this lovely stonework."

Charles smiled at the look on her face - simple awe, as though she were only a young girl. "Yes, we're quite lucky to be here. And you're right, you'd never expect the stone work when seeing it from the back."

He got out of the car and quickly moved around to get Elsie's door, taking her hand to help her out and trying to focus on the conversation they'd been having and not on her toned legs or shapely figure. "The back deck was redone about ten years ago, and the exterior of that portion of the house was resided to make it more resistant to the salt from the ocean. I spend most of my time out there as opposed to on the front porch, actually - the sunsets from that side are absolutely amazing."

"I can imagine," Elsie murmured, realizing that he had not relinquished her hand until after he'd unlocked the door and motioned for her to go through before him.

"I'll fetch us some wine. Why don't you wander around a bit?"

"I'd love to, thank you," she replied, smiling shyly. She would have been embarrassed to have presented herself as somewhat of a gawker had Mary been there, but with Charles the invitation was merely kind; he was clearly as impressed by the home as she was.

Charles made his way into the kitchen, his mind half-focused on the sound of Elsie's heels clicking across the tile floors as she made her way to … _ah, good, the sitting room._ Confident that's where he'd find her, he focused on the task at hand. He removed a bottle of his favorite white wine from the cooler and uncorked it, then retrieved two crystal glasses from the hutch and headed off to find Elsie. About ten feet from the sitting room door, he stopped dead in his tracks as the sound of the piano made its way through the house.

Charles just stood there, speechless - it was a miracle the goblets and wine didn't go crashing down onto the floor. After a few moments he managed to remember how to walk, and he made his way to the doorway where he stood leaning against the door jamb, his jaw on the floor.

Elsie was an absolute _vision._ Her hands flew up and down the keys as she played, her eyes closed. The emotion of the music was conveyed in the expertise of her playing, but it moved across her face as well. Charles, an aficionado of all types of classical music and an attendee at countless performances in the past, was simply amazed at the unexpected gift that she possessed. After about three minutes, he realized she was out of focus … only after blinking a few times did he understand that she'd moved him to tears.

Elsie seemed to have no idea of his presence, and Charles loathed the thought of interrupting her. He simply stood watching, entranced and moved by the music until the last, lilting notes echoed in the room; only then did he venture to move forward.

"Beethoven," he whispered. "The _Moonlight Sonata …_ It was playing in your office that day."

"Oh! Charles, I'm so sorry," she said, jumping up from the bench, seemingly ashamed.

"Oh, please, _don't be,"_ he assured her. He set the wine and glasses down on the side table and moved closer to her. Only then did Elsie realize his cheeks were damp; she reached out slowly and wiped his tears, then tucked her chin and looked at the floor, realizing that looking into his eyes was making it unbelievably difficult for her to keep her sanity.

"That was incredible," he added. "I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone play like that. You've truly got a gift, Elsie."

She smiled and shook her head, but he reached out and tilted her chin up until she was looking at him again, then intensified his gaze and only insisted, "You _do."_

God help her, she almost kissed him.

"That's a Steinway," she blurted instead. "I mean," she added, closing her eyes and shaking her head, "how foolish of me - you _know_ that. I just … I've never actually seen one in person."

"That it is." _Come on, Charles. You're standing here like two old fools!_ "Would you like some wine?"

She nodded, and tore herself away from him, making her way to the sofa. She slipped off her shoes and sat sideways, legs crossed, and draped her arm over the back of the couch.

Charles flipped the switch to start the fire in the gas hearth, then poured the wine. He handed her a glass and joined her on the sofa … _not too close,_ he warned himself … facing her, mimicking her posture without allowing their hands to touch.

Elsie sipped her wine and contemplated the man before her ... this tall, beautiful man, who was clearly so very strong, and yet she was sure he was one of the gentlest souls she'd ever met. She felt the need to tread very carefully knowing that, despite the physical strength and intelligence he exuded, he was clearly still coming to terms with the changes life had thrown his way … something Elsie understood only too well.

"What?" he enquired, furrowing his brow and smiling at her. "What are you pondering so deeply, Elsie Hughes?"

"You," she blurted without thinking. Charles saw the blush creep up her cheeks as she added, "I presume you play as well. The piano, I mean."

His soft laugh echoed throughout the room. "No, I'm afraid I don't - it's Daisy's, really."

"It's _Daisy's?_ You're kidding!" Elsie saw the shadow flit across his face and instantly regretted her words. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "how rude of me. I didn't mean for that to sound judgmental. I just didn't realize she played. It's quite a piano for a child."

"It's alright," he said with a sad smile. "It was originally Alice's piano - a gift for our wedding, if you can believe it."

"Let me guess, from the Crawleys?"

"Yes. Alice used to play the piano beautifully when I met her, was the star of the recitals and such, played the organ in the chapel on Sundays when they needed someone to fill in. I brought her to one of the Crawley family gatherings once and she happened to make an offhand comment that she'd always wanted to play a Steinway baby grand. Violet overheard her," he shrugged, "and that was that. The day we moved into our first home, piano movers knocked on the door."

"Unbelievable," Elsie just shook her head. "It was very lucky that you had room for it!"

"She knew we would," he admitted, "as she'd come with us to look at the place. We were just starting to be successful in our careers. Violet helped with the purchase of the house."

"You're quite close to her, then? I know very little about her, only what Edith has said."

He hummed, trying to find the words as he sipped his wine.

"Violet is like a second mother to me. I met her when I started at university, where I met Robert - Edith and Mary's father. My family always had money, but … well, not like the Crawleys, I suppose."

He paused and tilted his head, whether or not to go with his instinct and trust the beautiful, caring woman who sat beside him. But Elsie just looked back at him fondly with a small, encouraging smile playing about her lips, and he made his decision.

"My childhood was not a happy one," Charles said quietly, staring into his glass as he twirled the stem between his fingers, swirling the wine back and forth. "My father was an exceptionally successful surgeon. My mother didn't work, but she was a raging alcoholic. My father couldn't handle that; he couldn't see that it was his fault, really, because he was always working … or with one of his mistresses," he said darkly. "They always made sure I had everything I needed _physically,_ but …"

"But there was no love," Elsie said sadly, the story one she was all too familiar with from all the years she'd spent peeping into the home lives of so many families.

"No, or very little of it anyhow. My father died after battling cancer halfway through my first year at uni, and my inheritance was in a trust until I would turn twenty-five. My mother paid my university and law school costs, but that was basically it – I rarely went home to visit, and I rarely ever heard from her. Alice and I married young, and by that point I'd spent so many holidays at Robert's that I was more a part of his family than my own. Violet took an interest in me - to this day I'm not sure why. She promised to help me out until I turned twenty-five and came into my trust."

"'Help you out?' I'd say," Elsie muttered.

"Just so. Violet doesn't do anything by halves," Charles smirked. "But she _did_ allow me to pay her back when my twenty-fifth birthday came, for everything but the piano. _That,_ she said, was a wedding gift."

"I'm sure Alice appreciated it very much," Elsie said kindly.

"Actually, she almost never touched it. Not after the first few months, anyhow."

"You're kidding!" Elsie exclaimed. She shook her head in wonder, then drank her last sip of wine, allowing Charles to refill it before topping off his own.

"No. Her career had taken over her life at that point …" His voice trailed off, and Elsie could suddenly see with stark clarity what _his_ life had been like from that moment on.

"And her marriage?"

Charles looked up suddenly, shocked by her question.

"I'm sorry," she added quickly, embarrassed. "I can't believe I said that."

"No, no, it's fine," he told her. "It's just … well, not many people care enough to _ask._ To answer your question, yes; I can admit now that, after about two years of being married, our relationship was no longer Alice's number-one priority. And then, many years later, Daisy came along - rather unexpectedly, which was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back."

"Alice didn't want to be a mother?" She furrowed her brow, simply unable to imagine how that could be.

"No, not really. She went through with it for me. I think she truly believed that once Daisy was born she'd feel differently. Alice always felt … broken, somehow, I think, because she never wanted children the way that so many women do. I think she felt that once the baby was born she'd feel some sudden, maternal rush – that overwhelming desire that Robert's wife, Cora, felt the day Mary was born."

"And she didn't," Elsie said sadly.

"No. She tried, truly, but after two years she went back to work. My own career allowed me to work from home, and I became the primary caretaker – physician's visits, then play dates, library, that sort of thing."

"Of course," she smiled, "which helps to explain why you Daisy are so very close. Although I'm guessing that happened the day _you_ knew a bairn was on her way," she added softly, a loving kindness in her eyes that matched the tone of her words, the lilt of her accent tugging at his heart.

"Quite so." He was almost embarrassed by the softness in her voice and in her eyes, some deep _feeling_ in there somewhere … something that he didn't believe he deserved.

"I don't tell you all this so that you'll feel sorry for me, Elsie. It's just the way it was. My wife simply fell more in love with her job than with her husband … and her daughter. But although she was rarely present in our lives anymore, she never made Daisy feel unwanted or unloved. Daisy always knew her mother cared for her."

"But not as _you_ wished she would? Not as … well, not as many mothers would," she said sadly.

"No, and it broke my heart," he admitted, then shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, I don't know where all of this came from. You must think me very foolish," he asked sheepishly.

Elsie extended arm a bit, allowing her fingertips to become interlaced with his.

"No," she said softly, slowly, allowing herself to look deep into his eyes at last. "I think you're the most wonderful man I've ever known."

The next thing she knew the wine glass was being removed from her hand. As she followed Charles's movements with her eyes, she saw the light from the flickering fire bouncing off his silver locks; before she had time to regret what she'd said, she felt his lips on her own. His kiss was soft, tentative, not pressing or pressuring at all, as though he were testing the waters. He backed away after mere seconds - _much, much too quickly,_ Elsie thought - and looked her in the eyes again, the silent question in his own.

She sat forward and slowly reached her right hand up to his shoulder, using the angle to pull them closer together. She ran the fingers of her other hand over his lapel, examining it as she steeled her nerves … then moved her fingers up his chest and over his neck, allowing them to land in the curly hair at the nape of his neck as she gave up the last of her reservations, looked deep into his eyes, and kissed him back firmly. He made some type of sound between a soft moan and a sigh, and her heart started beating more rapidly – something she'd not have thought possible seconds before.

Charles's head was swimming, lost in a sea of wonder and passion, his own heart pounding forcibly in his chest and his pulse loud in his ears. After a few moments, he managed to break away from Elsie's kiss, but only just.

"Elsie," he whispered breathlessly, "what are we doing?"

"You kissed me," she said simply.

He smiled at her then, and caressed her cheek with his thumb, realizing only then that he'd been running his fingers through her gorgeous, auburn locks. "Yes, but then I _stopped_ , and the rest was _your_ fault," he gently argued.

She licked her still-tingling lips. "Alright," she conceded.

"And that brings us back to my original question." Charles sat back, feeling they needed a bit of distance as they discussed what this was that was happening between them.

"I'm … I'm not quite sure what you want me to say. I thought that you … well, it seemed that …" she trailed off, at a loss for words, a feeling that she found neither familiar or comfortable in the least.

Charles saw her hesitation and clasped her hand in his, trying to assuage her fears. "No. I mean, _yes …"_

She laughed at that. "Oh, yes, _that_ clears it up."

"Elsie," he added, finally in control of his words, "I have so much more than just a passing interest in you." He took her hand in his again, looking down at them and smiling at how his dwarfed hers, at how soft and gentle her skin was, at how her perfectly-manicured nails gave no hint of the hard work she did day in and day out.

"And I, you," she said softly. "But is this a very good _idea,_ Charles? What about Daisy? Surely she's not in a comfortable place for anyone else coming into your life in this way."

He sighed, sitting back but refusing to relinquish her hand. "I know, but she likes _you_ very much." He looked at her then, squeezed her hand, and added, _"I_ like you very much."

He watched her as she exhaled loudly and started worrying her lip again. He didn't want to say anything, would have sat there all night just watching her and holding her hand if he could. He admitted to himself that he'd been fighting this since the day he'd met her, had been telling himself that it was ridiculous that he could feel drawn to a woman he'd only just met, someone he didn't know at all. But the moment his lips had touched hers, he felt like he'd come …

"… home," he whispered unwittingly.

"Sorry?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

She saw his embarrassment, and decided not to press. Biting her tongue, she reached for her wine glass and downed the rest of the contents. She stood suddenly, pulling him up with her.

"Do you have any music in this room, Charles?" she asked suddenly. "Besides the piano?"

He tilted his head, then nodded slowly. "Yes …" She was just standing there, looking at him expectantly, and so he went over and turned on the sound system. Elsie smiled brilliantly as Barbra Streisand's voice came through the hidden speakers, filling the room with her clear, powerful singing.

"Would you like to dance?" she asked, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He'd thought for a moment that she'd been getting up to _leave._

"I'd love to," he answered, standing and offering her his hand.

"To be honest, I think it best to get off the sofa for the moment," she added with a smirk.

She curtseyed, causing him to laugh. He clasped her fingers and pulled her toward him slowly.

"Oh, heavens, I should put my heels back on!" she joked.

"I think we'll be just fine," he murmured, placing his hand at the small of her back. "Do you enjoy dancing?"

"That depends," she answered lightly. "Tonight? Yes. Do you often listen to Streisand?"

"That depends," he teased. "When the average age of the main audience isn't ten? Yes."

The sound of her laughter jump-started his heart once again. Charles couldn't remember ever having held Alice in his arms, dancing happily. Not even at their wedding, really, because she hated to dance. He remembered the obligatory bride-and-groom waltz, stiff and awkward despite their happiness that day, and how he'd danced with Violet and Cora more than his own wife.

But tonight … tonight was a whole new experience for him, and he realized with a start that it felt as though he and Elsie had danced together a thousand times. He noticed how easily she fit in his arms, despite her joking about her height; he noticed how warm she was, how good of a dancer she was, so attuned to the rhythm of the music, how lovely her perfume smelled, how the firelight was bouncing off her hair.

 _Could the one to save me_

 _Possibly be you?_

 _I was lost, I was blind._

 _Till I loved you._

 _Wouldn't see,_

 _Couldn't find someone new ..._

"Lovely song," she whispered, looking into his eyes. She wasn't afraid anymore, was ready to give herself so completely to this lovely man she'd met such a short time ago … if only _he_ were ready, which she wasn't sure about at all.

He licked his lips nervously. "It is," he agreed. "You never answered my question," he added.

"I know."

He pulled her closer then, twirling her around the room as the song changed. "I haven't danced in years. You're very good."

"Aw, I do love it," she admitted, "but there are precious few dance halls here in Misty Cove."

"Well," Charles told her, spinning her away and then pulling her back, holding her more tightly than he had before, "I'd say this one is working quite well."

They didn't speak again until the next song ended, when they came to a stop and simply stood together, hands clasped.

"Charles," she finally whispered, "what _are_ we doing here?"

He lifted her hand, placing a kiss to her knuckles and then another to the inside of her wrist. "Well, at the beginning of the night," he said, pausing to kiss each of her fingertips as she struggled to breathe, "I was trying to figure out how to get you to go out on another date with me."

"And now?" she gasped.

"Now," he said, moving his lips to the top of her head and kissing her softly, his next words a murmur against her hair, "I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to let you walk out that door."

She rested her forehead on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"I know. Charles, nothing like this has _ever_ happened to me. I'm feeling rather overwhelmed at the moment."

"Me, too." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and silently rejoicing when she placed her own arms around his waist, her cheek to his heart.

"You're a student's _parent,_ for God's sake! I'm not even sure if this is _allowed."_

He felt a flutter of hope in his heart as he listened to her. "This? This _what,_ Elsie?"

"This …" she answered, kissing his heart, "this beautiful, amazing _something_ that I feel when I stand here in your arms. You say that don't know how you're going to let me walk out that door. I've got to tell you, Charles ... I don't want to leave."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back, then finally rested them on her shoulders, pushing her away a bit so that he could face her again.

"Then don't," he whispered, kissing her once again.

This kiss was nothing like the first two they shared. There was nothing remotely reserved about the way their lips were pressed together - harshly - the way his tongue slid over her bottom lip repeatedly until she met it with her own, the sensation causing him to moan softly. He moved his lips across her cheek and nibbled on her ear, not noticing how her hands were deftly loosening his tie until she tossed it on the sofa. His lips found a sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder and she let out a little gasp, scrunching up the fabric of his shirt in her fingers.

Elsie's head was swimming as she felt his hands freely roaming the planes of her sides, her back, and lower. She'd managed to undo the top four buttons of his shirt and was placing frantic, open-mouthed kisses to his chest, marveling at the soft texture of the silver hair underneath her fingers. As her own hands started to wander, she found herself grabbing his waist, and pulling his body tightly up against her own, giving her own moan as she felt the results of their passionate embracing pushing up against her.

"Elsie," he warned again, the deep tone of his voice rumbling in her ears, "if you _do_ want to leave, this would be a good time …"

She just shook her head, moving her mouth upward to kiss his jaw. "God help me, but I really don't. I'll have to head out just after dawn, though."

He removed his arms from her body and took her face in his hands, the look in his eyes making her heart skip a beat as he took a deep breath, wanting to get his words exactly right.

"I wasn't just saying that earlier, about this not being a passing interest." He swallowed, thankful for her patience as he tried to explain what was in his heart.

"I've only ever been with one other woman in my life, so this isn't something I take lightly. I need for you to understand that. I realize that I know precious little about you, yet I feel that - for reasons I cannot possibly explain – we'd be so very _good_ together, that we _belong_ together."

Elsie closed her eyes, not wanting him to see any hesitation on her part. She had no real reservations about staying with him, sharing his bed and – hopefully, someday – _more._ But it was true … he knew precious little about her, about the past that still haunted her, and about how he was the thing she'd been hoping for her whole life, not having realized she still wanted it until the day he'd shown up in her office.

"Oh, Charles, I think I'm falling in love with you," she whispered, opening her eyes to look into his once again. "And, I'll be honest, that's a bit frightening, a bit overwhelming. But it's _good."_ She let out an involuntary laugh. "And it's been a _very_ long time since I've done this myself, and I feel a bit out of my league."

"Never," he rumbled. "You, Elsie Hughes, are the best thing that's come into my life in years. Believe me, it is _I_ who am out of _my_ league. And, for the record, it's been a very long time for me, too."

He leaned in for another kiss, then another, and then just bent down and picked her up in his strong arms. She ran her lips up and down his neck and jaw, her hot breath nearly driving him mad as he carried her to the bedroom, her dress having ridden up somewhere along the way; he passed through and then kicked the door closed behind them.

Charles placed her gently on the bed and lit the lamp on the bedside table.

 _An old-fashioned oil lamp,_ she thought. _Why doesn't that surprise me?_

She scooted to the edge of the bed - grateful for its unnaturally high height - and finished undoing the buttons on his shirt, which he quickly stripped off and tossed (along with his undershirt) on the chair in the corner. He smiled nervously at the look on her face as she raked her eyes over his chest and stomach, well aware that he was no twenty-five-year-old man anymore.

She didn't seem to care, however, and as she ran her hands over his torso she allowed her fingernails to run through the hair on his chest, smirking naughtily as one flicked over his nipple, making him gasp.

He reached behind her and undid the zipper to her dress, his cool fingertips ghosting over the heated surface of her skin. Rather than hopping off the bed, she simply let the dress fall down her shoulders and pool around her waist, exposing the black lace brassiere that she was ever-so-grateful she'd chosen for tonight. She wasn't ashamed of her body, the years of daily work on the farm keeping her nicely toned; however, she'd never been completely comfortable letting a man just _look_ at her.

But Charles was different, the look on his face full of complete adoration and - she could hardly believe it - lust. Clearly he wasn't finding her wanting so far, and the knowledge boosted her confidence. She laid back on the bed and caught her heels on the bed frame, lifting her bottom so that he could slide the dress the rest of the way off.

"Oh, my God," he whispered, running his hands over her breasts and down to her hips, where he fingered the black, matching lace he found there. He looked back up at her face and saw her auburn hair - aflame in the gentle light of the lamp - spread out over the white of his bedspread. "I've never seen someone so beautiful."

She smiled brilliantly at him, and hooked her heels around his knees. "Then come here," she purred, inhibitions finally, completely gone. She reached her arms out and took his hands, pulling him down on top of her until his elbows rested alongside her arms. "Make me happy that I stayed, Mr. Carson."

"Oh, I fully intend to, Ms. Hughes," he replied, and she felt his smile as he continued to kiss his way further and further down her body. "It will be my absolute _pleasure,_ I am sure."

* * *

 **Special shout-out to ericajanebarry** **, who wrote a scene in her (freaking amazing) Richobel fic, "Worthy and True," that was very like the piano scene here. I had already written this one, but the similarities were eerie. If even remotely ship Richobel, go read her fic, which is just stunning. xx**


	12. Catching the Sunrise

**A/N: Here we go – the rest of the "date," I suppose. I've loved responding to all of your reviews, and shout out once again to all of you who review as a "guest." I encourage you to open an account on the website, even if only so that authors can reply to your reviews. (You need not be a writer, or even make a list of favorites, etc. in order to do this, it just means we, the authors, can converse with you, the readers.)**

 **Some "M" ness here again. Drop me a line and let me know how you're doing! I know you all want Elsie's backstory, and I've mentioned to a few of you that it's coming in stages. That starts next chapter, FYI ... and ends in another.**

 **xx**

 **Saturday, October 4**

Elsie still had her eyes closed, but she could tell the sun had barely started to rise. She was vaguely aware of waking up in a strange yet comfortable place, and she was gradually pulling herself from the clutches of the dream she'd been having. It was _quiet_ in this place _,_ though, and she couldn't figure out at first why there was no rooster crowing her wake-up call. The only sounds she _could_ hear were the muted crashing of the tide and … ah, yes … the soft breathing of the man who lay fast asleep around her.

And he was, in fact, _around_ her. She smiled as she realized that she'd rolled on her side and cocooned herself in his arms at some point during the night. Now he was spooning her, his arms wrapped around her and his breath ruffling her hair; their legs were intertwined to the point where she wasn't quite sure where hers ended and his began. And she _liked_ it, liked having the weight of half his body on hers. She wondered how he wasn't crushing her, as though even in his sleep he was attentive to being gentle, and she loved the knowledge that she would be completely free to move about if she wanted to … which, at the moment, she did not.

Her mind flitted back over the last twelve hours - their _date,_ as it were: how they'd gone to dinner; that ease with which they'd conversed and gotten to know one another on a deeper level; the dancing, the wine, the kisses that had so quickly become more intense than anything she'd imagine sharing with him that night _(no, that's not true, Elsie … you imagined it, you just never_ _ **expected**_ _it);_ how he had carried her to his bed, and had, indeed, made her _ever_ so happy that she stayed.

And Elsie was a bit _startled_ to find herself happy - happier than she'd been in a great many years, in fact, if she were to be perfectly honest with herself, and _far_ happier than she felt she had a right to be. It was both terrifying and liberating, and she took these quiet, early moments to enjoy the sensation, hoping yet trying not to _expect_ that she'd have many more mornings when she'd wake wrapped up in his embrace, mornings when she'd be reminded of how good it felt to share herself so completely with another person, both physically and emotionally. The fact that Daisy was not typically sleeping over at someone else's home was warning enough that this would _not_ be a regular occurrence.

 _Not yet, anyhow. But soon, I think. I hope._

Just then, she heard his deep, drawn-out breaths begin to shorten, become more shallow, and she knew that he was waking. She brought her fingers up to his arm, caressing it gently without making a sound. She could feel his face, which was still buried in her hair, move slightly, and she knew that he was smiling.

"You smell wonderful," came his deep voice, and she laughed softly.

"Thank you." She felt his arms tighten slightly and she tucked in, allowing him to pull her a bit closer as he spoke.

"So this was _not_ a dream, then, if you're still here and I'm fairly sure I'm awake? Because this is all quite similar to a dream I've had recently, I don't mind saying."

"No," she cooed, turning her head as he bent down to nuzzle her cheek. "It's _not_ a dream, but I agree that it does feel like one. I certainly didn't expect to end up _here_ when you picked me up twelve hours ago." She felt his arms stiffen, and knew instantly that she'd caused him to worry.

"But you're not upset? Not having second thoughts? Regrets?"

 _"Definitely_ not," she reassured him, bending her head a bit to place a kiss just below his shoulder. "I'm a little overwhelmed, exceptionally happy, and a tiny bit afraid."

"Afraid of what?" he enquired, now fully awake but refusing to move away from her. He stared down at her body, or what he could see of it anyhow, and smiled, remembering how a kiss placed _here_ and how a touch just _there_ had the most wonderful effects on her. But he didn't move; he simply waited for her to gather her thoughts.

She took a few slow, deep breaths, willing herself to maintain calm. She felt his arms tighten around her a bit more, and appreciated the gesture, understanding it for what it was: a desire to protect her from whatever it was that she feared.

"Of how I could stay in this bed and never leave. Of how you make me feel."

She rolled over in his arms and tucked her head into his chest, her forehead almost against his collarbone as he adjusted his body to hold her in that new position.

"Which is how?" he gently prodded, rubbing his hand up and down her back.

She huffed out a laugh. "Beautiful. Safe … protected, as though you'd never let anything happen to me." She rolled the next word around in her head, debating it for a moment, then gave up the struggle. "Maybe _loved_ ," she whispered.

His hum rumbled through his chest, the vibration of it on her forehead causing her to smile. "I see. And you see that as a _bad_ thing?"

She leaned back so that she could face him, then stretched up to kiss him. What she intended to be a brief peck turned into something softer, more languid, more _loving_ that she'd planned. It only reinforced the feeling she had, and she broke away before it could turn into something more.

"Charles," she warned, feeling him begin to stir against her leg.

"I know - you'll need to leave in a while. I remember," he told her with a smirk. "Why don't we get up and I'll make some tea. Let's catch the rest of the sunrise together, shall we?"

"That sound wonderful," she said gratefully. "And I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but I just realized you'll need to drive me home. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to have to get up so -"

He silenced her by placing a fingertip to her lips. "Don't you _dare_ apologize for spending the night in my arms, Elsie Hughes. _Not. One. Word._ "

She smiled at him, and the gentleness she saw in his eyes melted her completely.

"Alright," she whispered against his finger.

Charles got up and grabbed some pajama pants from his drawer, then reached for his bathrobe.

"Here," he said, handing it to her. "It's warmer than your dress, if you'd like."

"Thank you. I just need the loo and then I'll be out."

He kissed her forehead and brushed his hand over her quite-mussed hair. "See you in a bit," he answered before heading to the bathroom down the hall.

Elsie rolled onto her back once again and stretched, encouraging her muscles to wake up. She shook her head and rolled her eyes, smiling once again at the fact that she was actually _in his bed_. She swung her feet out and stood up slowly, retrieved her clothing from the floor, and made her way into the en-suite. She didn't bother getting dressed yet, just folded everything and washed up a bit, then used Charles's comb to straighten her hair as best she could. Five minutes later she emerged, dressed only in his luxurious robe, and made her way to the kitchen.

"That looks better on you than it does on me," he quipped as she entered the kitchen. He smiled at the sight: a slightly-mussed Elsie absolutely dwarfed in his enormous robe, its hem almost reaching her ankles. He handed her a cup of tea, then put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her head.

"This is rather domestic, isn't it?" she mused. "Certainly not what most women find themselves doing after tumbling into a man's bed the night before, I would imagine."

"Well, I would hope not," he huffed. "I'd hate for you to think last night was anything of _that_ sort, something of which you'd find yourself ashamed in the morning."

"I'm not ashamed, Charles. I'm rather chuffed that you _wanted_ me, to tell the truth. Come on, let's head out or we'll miss it all."

He took up his own teacup, clasped her hand, and led her out to the front porch. The sea breeze was chilly despite the fact that the house blocked them from most of it, and he pulled a blanket down from the back of the sofa. He nodded his head and indicated for her to sit, and then he joined her and wrapped the blanket around them both, being sure to cover her bare feet.

"Your toes are freezing!"

"They are," she agreed, "but I was ill-prepared to be sitting near the ocean at dawn."

"Next time you should bring a bag," he ventured.

She turned to look up at him. "Next time? Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I am," he reassured her. "Why do you find that so hard to believe?"

Elsie just shook her head. "Don't mind me," she said softly. "I'm not making much sense. Didn't sleep much, you know," she added with a raised eyebrow.

"But something _is_ holding you back," he said seriously, and she nodded, then turned so that she could lean back on his chest.

Charles said nothing more. He didn't want to press - she'd confide in him when she was ready.

"You'll have to tell her," Elsie said eventually, and he understood immediately.

"I know. And I don't mean to give you the idea that it's not important to me to do so as soon as possible, it's just …"

"Charles, I understand. The poor girl's just lost her mother, and clearly she's been in a tailspin from that. But … well, I don't think we can easily sneak around. It's not my style anyway, and I don't think it's yours."

"No, it isn't."

He said nothing else but wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the scent that he already associated with her _:_ something about her shampoo, perfume … and just _Elsie._ They spent the next ten minutes in silence, allowing themselves to be lulled by the warmth of the tea and the sound of the waves crashing up on to the beach. As the sun came up fully, its light streaked the sky with a gorgeous array of purples, reds, oranges, and yellows, filtered beautifully through the wooded area before them.

"It's most beautiful in the fall, I think," Elsie mused, and she turned to face him when she heard Charles gasp.

" _The 'fall?'"_ he asked, pretending to be horrified. "Don't tell me the beautiful Scotswoman has become an _American?"_

Her laughter tinkled out over the porch and she swatted his leg playfully. "Fine, the sunrises in _autumn_ are the most beautiful. Does that make you feel better, my using the proper term?"

"It does," he answered, his eyebrows raised over twinkling eyes.

Elsie sighed and shook her head. "You're such a wonderful man, you know," she whispered, tracing her finger down his cheek. "However did I manage to end up here with you?"

"Well," Charles began, taking her empty teacup and resting it on the side table next to his own, "first of all, you play classical music in your office."

She smiled up at him. "That is true, I do."

He bent down and kissed her quickly on the lips. "And," he added, "my daughter adores you."

"Hmm," she mused, looking down at his chest and playing with the sparse, silver hair with her fingertips. "That _is_ rather important, and I am honored that she does. _I_ adore _her,_ you know."

"I was starting to get that impression, and I'm very thankful for it." _Kiss._ "And I _shall_ tell her, in due time. Until then, though …" Elsie nodded her understanding.

He laughed suddenly, startling her a bit. "You took me to dinner!" he exclaimed, placing yet another kiss to her lips.

"I did," she said gleefully, "and you _allowed_ it."

"Hmph, so I did. In my defense, though, you brought me to a place that you knew I would fall in love with - _that_ was smart of you. You're quite the plotter, I think. Dinner, drinks, piano … I'll have you know, I'm not often moved to tears, Elsie, but watching you play was _beautiful."_

"And then you _kissed_ me," she added, "and then we danced."

"And then we danced," he agreed, "and any hope I'd had of not losing my heart completely was gone in a flash."

Charles saw Elsie close her eyes and breathe deeply. He almost regretted allowing them to escape his lips, but not quite – _she should know,_ he told himself. He reached up and brushed his fingertips down her jawline, then smiled as she leaned into the warmth of his hand.

"I do hope I haven't shocked you," he said quietly, "but, given the circumstances, I decided it best to be completely honest." He licked his lips, then plunged in with both feet. "I think I'm in love with you, Elsie. And I suspect that you are at least a little in love with me, if last night was any indication; if not, then you've got me completely fooled." He paused, then added in an awe-filled whisper, "I've never felt so close to anyone, in _all_ ways, as I felt to you last night."

Elsie took another deep breath, allowing his words to sink in and settle in her mind.

"I'm not shocked," she began. "Nor are you incorrect. I _am_ falling in love with you, and quite a bit faster than I'd have thought possible. But there _are_ things about me that you need to know, Charles … things that may affect your decision to be with me ... things that may make you question my motives."

"I doubt that," he said firmly, "but I'll listen whenever you're ready."

He leaned down and wrapped his arms around her, capturing her mouth once again in a powerful, searing kiss. She opened her lips and he ran his tongue over hers, causing her once again to moan deeply into his mouth. She moved in his arms and swung her legs up and around him so that she was straddling his lap, and she grasped his face in her hands and ran her fingers through his hair, noticing how the sunlight reflected off the silver at his temples.

"I will tell you - _soon -_ but not today," she said, kissing him once again.

His hands traveled down to cup her bottom, and he squeezed it firmly and pulled her more tightly against his own body, remembering that she wore nothing underneath his enormous robe. " _How_ much time do you have, exactly?" he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

"No more than an hour, or they'll hate me," she gasped as he nipped at the lobe, and he knew she meant the horses. "But that _is_ a decent amount of time, wouldn't you say?" She let her own hands wander down between them, then unbuttoned the opening of his pajama pants just as he pulled open the front of the robe, and his eyes fluttered closed at her touch.

"God, Elsie," he groaned, instantly ready for her. He moved his hands to her waist and she grabbed onto his shoulders, lifting herself up and then sliding down very slowly as they both gasped with pleasure at the wonderful, still-new sensation of being together.


	13. Out of the Mouths of Babes

**A/N: Time to learn a little of Elsie's past, and meet a new character. This one has some traces of truth from my own life, regarding the young Mr. Barrow. Suffice to say that not all children live happy lives.**

 **To all of you lovely, wonderful reviewers - thank you! I know this fic - and the progression of the Chelsie in particular - isn't for everyone, but I'm glad you're hanging in there.**

 **xx, CSotA**

* * *

 _ **October - November**_

The remainder of October had passed quickly. Elsie and Charles barely had time to see one another at all, let alone spend any quality time together; she was away two of the four weekends - visiting friends, she told him - and he had to travel to New York for a few days for work. Daisy stayed behind with Edith when he was gone, meaning Daisy and Marigold were now closer than ever.

Elsie had brought pizzas over to the Carsons' place one weeknight after Daisy invited her (via written note) to come over for movie night. The girl had baked another apple pie, bless her, this time with a little assistance from her Papa, and she wanted Elsie to be able to enjoy it with them. She'd not spoken to Elsie again since the day on the farm, but Elsie wasn't giving up hope.

Movie night had been an uncomfortable evening in many ways, as Elsie expected it to be; she and Charles didn't dare even hold hands in front of Daisy, yet everywhere they looked they were reminded of their night together in this house. Elsie certainly wasn't sorry for how their "date" had ended, and neither was Charles, but it was hard to go back to the way it had been before that night.

Daisy, of course, knew nothing, and Charles wasn't quite sure how or when to bring it up. But Daisy had continued to natter on about Ms. Hughes enough at home that he knew, when the time came, it likely wouldn't be a _huge_ issue that he was dating the lovely nurse - if one could consider it 'dating' even; for now, he and Elsie were confining themselves to phone conversations, managing to speak daily except when one of them was out of town. They both enjoyed their talks immensely, and were learning a great deal about one another, but Charles couldn't help but think that they were moving through their relationship _backwards._

Then, a few days after Halloween, Edith came into work absolutely glowing. Her long-time partner - Bertie Pelham, the town's accountant - had finally proposed. Marigold adored him, and Edith couldn't have been happier if she'd tried.

Elsie hugged her warmly that day with truly heartfelt congratulations; after all, it had been Elsie who'd taken the dreadful call from the doctor when Marigold's father had suffered a heart attack, and it had been Elsie who'd had to deliver that news to Edith in the teacher's work room. It had been Elsie who'd held Edith as she sobbed at the hospital as they waited for more news, only to find out that Michael hadn't survived, and it had been Elsie who'd helped with all of the follow-up arrangements.

Very few people knew about this, which was fine with both women; however, the entire situation had resulted in Elsie's intense dislike of Mary Carlisle; simply put, Elsie was happy to help Edith, but she'd been _furious_ that Edith's own sister didn't see fit to do much at all, save a bit of babysitting Marigold in the weeks that followed. And, a few years later, it had been Elsie (and not Mary, nor anyone else with any formal position in town) who'd spoken so eloquently at the school board meeting, encouraging Edith's appointment as principal - something which had cemented their friendship into the closeness they now enjoyed.

Yes, Edith's wedding would be something to celebrate, indeed, Elsie told herself, and she knew she'd play a part in the planning of it. She bit down the jealousy she felt, knowing the time wasn't right to further develop her relationship with Charles, but she longed for the day when they, too, might be that happy. She was no fool; it was a distinct possibility, for even though these last weeks hadn't provided time for them to be alone with one another, neither felt the pull of the other growing any weaker.

 _Perhaps we'll attend the wedding together,_ she thought suddenly, and she felt a warm flush break out over her body. _Oh, yes … well, that would be something … more dancing, of course._

A quiet tap on the door brought Elsie out of her musings. "Yes?"

It was young Tommy Barrow, looking a bit worse for the wear than he had when she'd seen him out the door yesterday afternoon.

"Tommy?" She bit her tongue before saying the customary _'How are you feeling?'_ that she'd normally have given, because she could see very well how he was - the angry, red weal on his temple spoke volumes about his present physical and emotional state.

"I've just come for a bag, Ms. Hughes, if I may," he muttered, turning away from her.

Elsie was having none of it. She rose from her desk and shut the door, then turned to Tommy and gave him a sad but supportive smile. He considered her for a split second, his need for comfort at war with his desire to be brave. But, seconds later, Elsie found her arms full of the sobbing boy. She spared a brief thought for the closed door, but knew no one would call her on impropriety; everyone knew Tommy's story.

Elsie could feel the anger seething off of her but tried to calm herself for the sake of the boy. Tommy knew enough anger at home, had enough troubles to deal with when he _wasn't_ in her office, and he needed no more of that now.

"When does he sail out again?" she asked instead.

"Next Friday - and I can't wait," he answered venomously. "I hate him, Ms. Hughes … I really do."

"Hatred will get you nothing, Tommy," she advised sagely, "except an upset belly and a preoccupied mind."

"I know," he said, "but I can't help it. At least he left Mum alone this time."

 _Yes, and thank God for that,_ Elsie thought. The last time Mr. Barrow had gone after his wife, she'd landed in the emergency room with a broken arm - and no desire whatsoever to file a complaint against her 'darling husband.'

"Does it hurt?"

Tommy backed up and touched the mark on his temple. "No, not much," he admitted gratefully. "He almost missed me completely - I'm getting too fast for him now. I'll catch it when I get home, though …"

"What if you had a job, Tommy?" Elsie asked suddenly. "What if you could bring some money home, perhaps?" She'd been thinking about this for a while now, but hadn't formulated a coherent plan to carry it out.

"Don't I wish! But I'm not old enough."

"It's only, I was thinking," she said, making it up as she went, "I could use someone to help me out at the farm before winter comes. The lawn needs some tidying and the garden needs pulling up, I could use my fence painted … there are just too many things for me to do with the days getting shorter and shorter."

"What about Anna? Doesn't she work for you?" he asked suspiciously.

"She does," Elsie admitted, "but she spends all her time taking care of the horses and working with the children who are taking lessons." _Perhaps we can provide another type of therapy, too._

"You're serious?" he pressed. "You'd have me to your _home_? To work on your farm?"

"I would, if you think you'd like that," she said gently.

"I think I'd like that very much," Thomas said gratefully. "Anything to not be home … but what's the catch?"

"Well," Elsie said firmly, "if we are to do this, we have to come to a couple of agreements. Here, sit," she said, pointing to the chair opposite her desk. He complied, and she handed him the lunch bag he'd come in for originally.

"Thank you, Ms. Hughes," he said, tearing into his sandwich hungrily as she recommenced her speech.

"You're welcome. Now, I must not hear of you bullying any more students, do you hear, Tommy? You, of all boys, should know the value of that," she added softly, and he had the decency to look ashamed as he chewed through the second half of the PB&J.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled after swallowing hugely.

Elsie reached over to the fridge and pulled out two cartons of milk which she handed to him. He nodded his thanks and opened the first immediately, drinking it down in four gulps.

"Slow down," she admonished quietly.

"You said _'a couple of agreements' -_ more than one," he reminded her as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What's the second?"

"I will, of course, pay you fairly for your work. I will give you _half_ of the wages to bring home to your father," she said, "and will keep half here in an envelope in the school's safe. You can bring _that_ money to your mother when your Pa heads off on the ship," she said, nodding firmly. "I know your Mum will let you keep a portion of it, and the rest can go to helping her out a bit, hm?"

Tommy thought he'd died and gone to heaven, but trust did not come easily to him. He scrunched up his face in suspicion, asking, "Why are you doing this? _Really?"_

Elsie sat back and nibbled on her lip, considering the boy before her. She tilted her head, and he knew she was debating whether or not to tell him the truth. He stared back almost defiantly, as if daring her to lie.

She didn't.

"When I was a young lass in Scotland," she said quietly, "my father was quite a bit like yours, except that we were farmers, not sailors, and so _my_ Da never left for weeks at a time." She paused, and let that sink in for a moment.

Elsie saw a flicker of emotion flit through Tommy's eyes, one she immediately read as fear tinged with sadness, and she knew she'd been right to tell him.

"So, I know how much it means to you to be able to feel useful, in charge of making a decision like this for yourself, and how nice it would be for you to have some physical labor through which to take out your … frustration," she finished.

Thomas's eyes widened, and he knew instantly that she was telling the truth. Ms. Hughes _understood,_ she _got it,_ in a way that no one else ever had.

Elsie smiled sadly, knowing she'd convinced him, but she didn't expect the questions that followed.

"How did you get away?" he whispered. "How did you leave her?"

 _Oh, my God … he'd run away, Els, but he won't leave his mother behind. Bless him._

"My Mam died when I was sixteen," she said truthfully. "Influenza. I took a job at a local hotel and saved every penny. When I turned eighteen and had finished school, I packed up my younger sister and myself and left in the middle of the night, bound for London. And there," she added, "I had the very good fortune to meet a kind woman who took us in and helped us out. I was able to go to nursing school on a scholarship, and here I am."

Tommy was just staring at her, and she could see the newfound appreciation in his eyes for her story - and, probably, for the fact that she'd just spilled that story to an eleven-year-old boy without batting an eyelash.

"When can I start, Ms. Hughes?"

"How about today? What time is good for you to return home at night?" _What time will he be asleep?_ she meant, and knew he understood.

"Usually after seven is safe," he answered, meaning it quite literally.

"I'll phone your mother and talk to her," Elsie told him, "and you'll have dinner with me tonight." She smirked, then added, " _And_ your homework will be done, too."

He smiled and laughed at that, and Elsie was grateful for the way the sight and sound of it warmed her heart.

* * *

Elsie had just dropped Tommy off at home, his first day having gone remarkably well. She parked the truck near her half-painted fence and was heading across the driveway to the front door when she heard a second vehicle pulling in. She looked up, but was momentarily blinded by the headlights.

 _Charles?_ she wondered, noticing the size of the car. When he turned to park, she could see and verify that, yes, it was his Volvo.

She stood dumbfounded, watching him as he hurried over to her. The only thing she could think of was _Where's Daisy? Oh, God, let her be alright …_ But he allayed her fears somewhat when he finally reached her, swept her up in his arms, and kissed her passionately.

Charles felt Elsie smile into the kiss, and he broke away to catch his breath.

"I've been needing to do that for _weeks_!" he gasped. "God, Elsie, I've missed you."

"I think you're missing someone _else,_ aren't you?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "Where is Daisy? I was afraid something awful had happened to her the way you flew into my driveway!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! She's _fine_ \- she's home. Edith and Marigold came for dinner and are with her now." He looked into her eyes sheepishly. "I may have said that I had to run to the store quickly, for some more milk as we're almost out …"

"I see," she laughed, her hands resting on his chest. "And have you made it there?"

"I have," he said, standing up straight and proper. "I wouldn't have _lied,_ exactly …"

"I'm glad." She reached up and brushed the back of her knuckles over his later-than-five-o'clock shadow. "And I've missed you terribly, Charles."

"You've been busy," he said, testing the waters. She'd been away twice and not told him where, exactly. He realized they weren't quite in a _relationship,_ but he was a bit hurt by it nonetheless.

"I have."

 _Alright, then._ "Elsie, I don't mean to pry, but …"

She cocked her head and smirked at him. "But you _will_ ," she teased gently. "And I don't mean to keep it from you forever. It's just a very long story that you don't have time to hear now, and one that's definitely not meant to be had over the phone."

"Would you come for dinner this week? Please? I mentioned it to Daisy and she was thrilled with the idea. She sees you more than I do," he added sadly. "I admit it - I'm jealous."

Elsie wrapped her arms around his middle, and he enveloped her in his own. "I don't like it, either," she admitted, "but …"

"I'd like to tell her about us, Elsie. This week - at dinner, if you'll come. I don't want to go another month without spending any actual _time_ with you."

She didn't answer at first, just listened to his heartbeat as she laid her ear on his chest. He smelled faintly of cologne and smoke, and she knew instantly he'd had a fire in the pit on the beach. Elsie wondered if he'd made s'mores with Daisy, and the thought of not having been a part of that made her heart twinge with sadness.

"Yes," she said simply, and she felt his soft sigh of relief.

"Good. Thursday?"

Elsie leaned back and looked up at him, then nodded. "What shall I bring?"

"Max," he said, causing her to laugh.

"Seriously?"

"Will he behave?"

"Oh, yes - he's a good boy," Elsie replied fondly.

"Then yes, _seriously_." He looked deep into her eyes. "Perhaps he should get to know my place," he smiled. "I'd like to think you might spend more time there eventually." He reached down for another kiss.

"Mmm," she hummed against his mouth. "I like the thought of that, but not right away, and no staying over for a _very_ long time if it bothers Daisy."

"I agree," he reassured her, delighted that she was coming for dinner. He already had an idea of how Daisy would react, and he was not nearly as concerned as Elsie was.

"Alright, Charles. Me and one dog, Thursday at … six?"

"Perfect."

Elsie walked him over to his car and kissed him goodbye.

"Oh, and Elsie?" he said, reaching into the console for something.

"Yes?"

Charles handed her a cream-colored envelope. She recognized it immediately and smiled brilliantly at him.

"Edith asked me to pass this along to you, said she didn't see the point of sending you one as well as you'll just be coming with me." He raised one eyebrow at her, questioning.

"Oh, will I? I wonder where she got _that_ idea ..."

He faltered for a moment, but she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Of course I will, you old booby," she teased him. "And I happen to know she mailed those out _days_ ago. I thought you'd never get around to asking!"

* * *

Thursday _dragged_ for Elsie. She couldn't wait to get to Charles's place, but first she had to prepare things for Friday's field trip. It had been rescheduled _three_ times now because Ms. O'Brien had fought the details tooth and nail, to the point that poor Mr. Molesley had trouble booking the museum before Thanksgiving. Elsie stayed out of it, but she'd gotten enough details from Phyllis to know that Mr. Molesley was miserable about the whole situation. He had begged Phyllis to attend as a chaperone and she'd agreed, for which Elsie was grateful as Daisy would be going on the trip with the rest of her class. Charles was unable to get the time off given the change in date, and Phyllis would be the group leader for Daisy and four of her classmates.

Elsie packed up the last of the prescription meds for the trip and printed out detailed dosing instructions for each child, then matched the printouts with the medication and set them aside. She moved on to the red zippered pouches for each chaperone, into which went the non-prescription items such as bandages and antibiotic ointment. The prescription meds went into a separate bag, marked for the doctor who would be in attendance. Elsie knew him from town - a delightful man by the name of Richard, whose great niece was in Daisy's class.

 _Thank heaven they're all on the one bus_ , Elsie told herself. She liked to be as organized as possible, particularly with the medication. The bags went into a red snap-tote tub, which Elsie would hand off to Phyllis in the morning upon departure.

"Edith," she called as she headed down the hall, "I'm heading out. I've locked everything in my room and will be in early tomorrow to get it to Phyllis."

Edith looked up from her desk and smiled. "Alright, and _thank you,_ Elsie. You work harder than any of us - don't think I don't notice it," she added with a wink. "Now go to dinner! Don't you keep Uncle Charlie waiting. And please tell me that you don't have to rush home tonight?"

"I don't, thankfully, as Anna works on Thursdays. And I won't keep him waiting," Elsie replied, waving a goodbye as she headed outside. She practically ran to her truck, knowing she wanted time for a quick shower before heading over.

But Elsie had nothing to fear; in fact, she ended up being ready early, so she fed Max before they left.

"That way," she told her pup, "you'll be be more likely to leave us alone during our own dinner."

Max wagged his tail, and she bent to give him a scratch behind the ears. "Just be sure you're ready to play with Daisy afterward."

Max appreciated the change in his schedule, of course. As soon as he finished eating, she let him run outside for a couple of minutes to take care of business, and then they jumped in the truck and headed over to the Carsons' place.

Elsie and Max made their way up the steps and Elsie rang the bell. The sound of it was deep and rather loud, and didn't match the feeling of the house at all. It startled her, and before she recovered the door opened.

Charles smiled brilliantly at her, and Elsie found she couldn't quite speak. After a moment she tore her eyes from his and looked down at the rest of him, her eyes widening as they landed on his legs.

"Are those _jeans_?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes." Charles looked worried immediately. "Do they look foolish?" he asked, a grimace on his face.

Her laughter tinkled as she stood on the front step, and Elsie heard Daisy's footsteps coming down the hall. "No," Elsie answered, "they look wonderful, actually - nice, _casual_." She looked down at the blur that had just appeared in the doorway. "Hello again, Daisy. Are you ready for tomorrow?"

 _Nod._

"Good."

"You can come in, you know," Charles smirked. "I don't bite."

Daisy reached out for Elsie's hand and pulled her in through the hallway, but Elsie managed to throw a mischievous look back at Charles: _Yes, you do,_ she mouthed silently.

His sputtering cough was all she needed to begin giggling in earnest. Daisy turned to look at her quizzically, but Elsie just shook her head and allowed the girl to bring her into the kitchen.

"Daisy!" Elsie exclaimed, needing a change of topic and seeing a plate of cookies on the countertop. "Did _you_ make those?"

 _Nod._

"You're becoming quite the little baker, aren't you?" Elsie asked fondly. Daisy smiled in return, and Charles asked her to go and set the table. It was her favorite task, and Elsie watched as Daisy scurried off into the other room; Charles had shown her two years ago how to do lay a proper table, and she took pride in making it look nice whenever they had guests.

"She is," he murmured, and Elsie jumped as she realized he'd sneaked up behind her. He reached his hand out and grasped hers briefly, placing a gentle kiss to the back of her head.

"Charles," she warned in a whisper, "that's not a good idea."

"I know," he said, already steps away by the time the words were out. "Wine?"

Elsie nodded, and he poured two glasses for them and a glass of milk for Daisy. Elsie took her glass and Daisy's and they moved into the dining room. Max followed along, laying down in the corner at Elsie's command.

Dinner was, somewhat to Elsie's surprise, a fabulous lasagna, homemade bread, and salad.

"Daisy," Charles said once everyone's plates had been portioned out and they'd begun eating, "there's something I'd like to ask you." He shot a sideways glance at Elsie, who nodded just enough for him to feel encouraged.

Daisy looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed. Then she looked at Ms. Hughes, then back at her Papa again, clearly trying to work out why he was bringing something up _now_ and not when they were alone.

Suddenly an idea flew through her mind - an idea so wonderful that she instantly dismissed it. But she saw her Papa give Ms. Hughes a little smile, and saw Ms. Hughes return it and nod slightly, and she allowed herself to hope as a smile tugged at her lips.

Charles watched his daughter, thinking she looked like she was watching a tennis match between the two adults. He saw her smile and he looked at Elsie again, waiting until she swallowed her food before speaking.

"She knows," he said simply.

Elsie's eyes widened with shock and a little trepidation. She swallowed and managed to steady herself. "Pardon?"

"Daisy," he continued, looking at his daughter, "do you _know_ what I want to speak to you about … why I waited for Ms. Hughes to be here?"

Daisy thought fast, then came to a decision. She nodded, and smiled brilliantly at her Papa.

"You see," he continued, "I know that Ms. Hughes thinks highly of you."

Elsie nodded, choosing to remain silent, and she smiled at Daisy.

"And I know that you care a great deal for Ms. Hughes …" he trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words.

"And so do you," Daisy said simply, softly, before she forked a bite of lasagna into her mouth. She looked up at the shocked adults, and giggled.

Charles flushed crimson but sat up straighter, looking at his daughter with appraising eyes as Elsie watched them both with astonishment and emotion written all over her face.

"Well ... yes, I do ... Does that bother you, petal? Does it make you ... uncomfortable?" Charles asked.

But Daisy shook her head. _No._

Elsie felt it was her turn to speak up. "Daisy, I would like you to know that I care about _both_ of you very much, but I am not trying take your mother's place."

Daisy was shocked to hear mention of Alice, but it didn't hurt like she thought it would … not when Ms. Hughes talked about her, anyhow.

"I know," she whispered. She refilled her salad bowl, and saw out of the corner of her eye when Ms. Hughes reached for her Papa's arm and squeezed it briefly.

"I think," Elsie said quietly, "that when we aren't in school, you might want to call me 'Elsie.'"

Daisy nodded, then giggled again before finishing the rest of her milk.

 _Well,_ thought Charles, _that's alright then._

The small party finished their dinner in relative silence, and then Daisy got up to clear the table. She put the plates in the sink and returned with the plate of cookies. As she was on her way over to the table, she noticed her Papa pull Ms. Hughes's - _no, Elsie's_ \- hand in his own and squeeze it, and saw Elsie smile so sweetly at him.

It would take a little getting used to, but Daisy was already happy about this new situation. She would always love her Mummy, but Mummy had _never_ looked at Papa like that, not that Daisy could remember, anyhow; the way Elsie looked at him, it was like she just _adored_ him. And the look on his face was just as sweet. Daisy almost felt like she wasn't supposed to see that look at all but, then again, if that were the truth, Papa would have been sure it never happened at all.

And so it was that, on a chilly Thursday evening in November - and for the first time since they'd arrived - Daisy really felt like Misty Cove could actually be a new place to call _home._

* * *

 ** _A/N #2: Mandated reporting in the U.S. ... Yes, I know. Please have faith, I'm getting there.  
_ :)**


	14. I Get Ideas

**A/N: To the person whose guest review started with "My. Feels. Are. Gone." - thank you! Made me laugh out loud in the waiting room of a doctor's office! :) I wish you and the other guest reviewers had accounts so that I could reply in person to you all.**

 **Guess what? This chapter has a song accompaniment! Tony Martin's** _ **I Get Ideas**_ **is the song to which Charles and Elsie are dancing at the end. It can easily be found on YouTube, but I've started a Spotify playlist under my username (chelsiesouloftheabbey) which is entitled, "After the Fall." :)**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

Edith and Bertie's wedding was to be held on Saturday, December 20, allowing for a school vacation honeymoon that wouldn't interfere with Edith's work schedule. The planning had gone easily, as demand for weddings in a small town were few and far between, and the major details had already been worked out.

It would be a simple church affair, with Marigold as flower girl and no other attendants; a threesome, coming together as one, in front of their tightly-knit group of family and friends. The reception that was to follow would be held at the Misty Cove Seaside - the most upscale establishment in town - at Robert and Cora's insistence; it was to be part of their gift, after all.

Edith had asked Beryl if she would cater the event, and the menu had been decided in three days. Beryl had prepared a vast array of things for them to sample, and they'd settled on a choice of baked stuffed scallops (Edith wishing to take advantage of their fortuitous seaside location) or filet mignon (Bertie's all-time favorite dish). The cake would be white with a chocolate ganache frosting and raspberry-crème filling, a specialty of Beryl's. Mary had gotten the announcement in the paper, of course. Robert, Cora, and Violet were scheduled to arrive from England on the 18th.

The end of November found Elsie and Edith shopping for dresses – for Edith and for Marigold, of course, but for Elsie as well. She didn't own many formal dresses – there wasn't much need for them in Misty Cove, after all – and the last wedding she'd attended had been _many_ years ago. She wanted something special, wanted to be sure she would good on Charles's arm; it would be their first official "date" in front of their friends and the people who were, for all intents and purposes, his family. Elsie considered Edith a close friend, but she'd only met the "Yorkshire Crawleys" a handful of times, and even then it was usually just a quick handshake at church. She wasn't terribly confident that they'd feel a farmer/nurse from Maine would be worthy of the wonderful man they'd adopted into their family, and the pressure to make a good impression was weighing heavily upon her.

"Elsie?" Edith's voice called to her gently from across a rack of dresses. "Are you in there?"

"Sorry," Elsie replied sheepishly. "Just woolgathering, I suppose."

Edith looked at her and smiled understandingly. "Everything is going to be _fine._ I promise."

"Hm." Elsie nibbled on her lip, looking at Edith's encouraging expression. "We'll see. Your grandmother …"

"... loves Uncle Charlie as much as she does Papa, and she'll love _you_ for the way you care for him. She'll spot _that_ in a minute, you can be sure."

"I'm sure Mary's none too thrilled about it," Elsie couldn't help but add under her breath.

"Mary's opinion matters to _Mary,"_ Edith said with no small trace of snark, "and, occasionally, to the others. But Granny will love you, mark my words, and that will seal the deal."

Elsie sighed and nodded, and she began flicking dresses across the rack once again. She thought she might want something blue, since she'd worn red to the restaurant on their last date.

 _Date … hm. It was one hell of a 'date,' Elsie._

As Elsie pulled a few items off the rack, she considered the possibilities. The Crawleys would be spending the week after the wedding at Edith's home, with Marigold; Daisy had already asked to sleep over at their house the night of the wedding and also for half of the vacation week. Elsie and Charles had not discussed it yet, but Elsie knew it was a distinct possibility that they would spend at least _one_ of those nights together - a thought that she found both thrilling and frightening. She was hesitant to move their relationship too much further ahead until she came clean about everything; she'd have to explain about Becky, which didn't seem too terrible, but she'd also have to tell him about _Joe._

 _Best not leave_ _ **that**_ _too much longer, Els._

Sighing frustratedly, Elsie pulled herself back to the present once again and headed into the dressing room. Five minutes later, she emerged, looking around for Edith.

"Oh, Elsie!" Edith gushed. "Yes - yes! That is _gorgeous!_ Oh, you simply must buy it!"

The dress that Elsie had on was midnight blue in color, and it was set just off of her shoulders. The bodice plunged a bit lower than she'd have normally liked, but its fitted design suited her. Edith approached her and turned her around, then took Elsie's hair and swept it up in a twist as she stood behind her friend and made her look in the mirror.

"Like that," Edith said, nodding. "You're going to be the most beautiful woman at my wedding, myself included!"

Elsie shook her head, causing her hair to cascade back down around her shoulders. "Oh, I doubt that _very_ much. That dress you've chosen is absolutely incredible," she said, pointing at the one hanging up by the register. "I love that you've gone with something vintage - it suits you. And they don't have to alter so much as a stitch!"

"Yes, I did get lucky finding that. I didn't even _want_ a white dress, not really, but Bertie insisted that we 'do it right' as neither of us were ever married before." She stopped speaking suddenly, tears springing to her eyes.

"Oh, come now, dear," Elsie said, wrapping Edith in a hug. "It's alright, you know. Bertie knows this is difficult for you - he knows how hard it was for you to lose Michael so soon before you were to have been married. It's alright to regret that you never had that time with him. It doesn't mean you love Bertie any less."

Edith nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her finger. "And settling Michael's affairs was what brought me into Bertie's office in the first place." She laughed then, a short bark that startled Elsie with its harshness. "You know, Granny never wanted me to marry Michael. Did I ever tell you that?"

"No, you didn't," Elsie replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Whyever not?"

"She said that we'd 'done things backward,' having Marigold out of wedlock. She felt that rushing into a marriage was a foolhardy idea, something that I was - and I quote - 'not entirely prepared for.' She claimed it would be a disaster of epic proportion."

"Well, she was wrong," Elsie said firmly, her own insecurities about Violet Crawley creeping back in. "You and Michael _adored_ one another."

"We did. And I do love Bertie so very much. He has been so kind and patient, and he has always wanted children. Marigold adores him."

Elsie took Edith's hand in hers and squeezed it. "Of course she does, because he's perfect."

Edith stood up suddenly and cleared her throat to compose herself. "Get that dress, Elsie. Because Bertie's not the only perfect man who'll be at this wedding."

Elsie's eyes looked downward and fiddled with the skirt fabric, feeling uncomfortable once again. She looked back up only when Edith reached out to squeeze her hand.

"I know," Elsie whispered. "And that scares me."

" _Tell him,"_ Edith said. "Just tell him everything. I promise you, he'll understand."

"That's what Phyllis said, too. And Beryl, when she gave me the third degree last week. But they don't know him like you do, so it didn't really help much. Oh, for heaven's sake! I'm a forty-four-year-old woman who's been acting like a teenager, aren't I?"

"Ummm … well, yes, sort of. _No worries,_ Elsie. I know my family. They're going to be so happy for you both. And Uncle Charlie is one in a million."

"Yes," Elsie admitted with a smile, "he certainly is."

"Good! Now that we have _that_ settled," Edith said, turning Elsie around and shoving her back into the dressing room, "go and take this dress off so that we can pay for everything and get out of here! I need tea and biscuits if I'm going to tackle that seating chart, and I _still_ need to find a dress for Marigold."

* * *

 _ **December 20**_

Elsie put the finishing touches on her hair and reached for her earrings, trying to remind herself that Charles _wanted_ her on his arm at this wedding. Just as she put the last backing on, the doorbell sounded. Max started barking furiously, and Elsie came down the hall shushing him and wondering why in the world he was barking at Charles, whom he'd never barked at before.

However, when she opened the door it was not Charles who greeted her, but a liveried chauffeur, who tipped his hat upon seeing her.

"Ms. Hughes? I am Stevens. I am here to collect you for the wedding."

Elsie peeked behind him and spotted a charcoal gray limousine, next to which Charles was standing with his hands casually tucked into the pants pockets of a rather dashing, single-breasted tuxedo … complete with blue tie to match her dress.

 _Oh, Edith,_ Elsie thought fondly. _You didn't have to do that._

Elsie had half-expected the tux - it was, after all, a Crawley family event. But oh, did Charles look _wonderful._ Elsie took a deep breath and swallowed, trying to collect herself. She was painfully aware that she and Charles had barely spent any time alone together since she'd spent that night at the beach and, God help her, she just wanted to drag him into the house and shut the door in poor Stevens's face.

"Of course you are," she squeaked. "I'll be just a moment."

"Very good, ma'am."

She ran back in for her shoes and wrap, then tossed a lipstick in her clutch and headed out to the limo. As she approached Charles, she saw the look of appreciation on his face. When she got even closer her wrap slipped a bit, and Elsie blushed when she saw his eyebrows rise dramatically as he glanced down at the front of her dress.

"Good evening, Mr. Carson," she greeted him.

"Ms. Hughes, you look _stunning,"_ he replied, reaching down for a kiss which she happily gave him.

Remembering that there was a chauffeur standing at the ready, Elsie got into the car and Charles followed suit. He then nodded to Stevens that they were all settled, and the door was firmly closed.

Elsie had never been in a limousine, and she was rather taken by the luxury of it. The seats were of the softest leather, and there was champagne set out for the two of them. The moon roof was closed because of the cold, but through it Elsie could see the stars.

"Charles, you didn't have to do this," she said quietly.

He picked up her hand and kissed it gently, then squeezed it and laid it on his knee. "I would love to take the credit, but it was Edith's plan. I'm glad to have the time alone with you, though, despite how short of a ride it is. Champagne?"

Elsie giggled; it was music to his ears. "Why not?"

He handed her a glass, then clinked his to it. "Here's to a lovely evening."

She nodded and drank a sip, then leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth, pulling away before he could deepen it.

"I feel like quite the lady!" she exclaimed.

Charles smiled at her, and she saw all the desire and – yes, she was almost sure - _love_ in his eyes.

"You _are,_ and I intend to spend quite a bit of time making you realize it."

Elsie flushed once again, unsure of whether it was embarrassment, desire, or the champagne - and figuring it was a combination of all three. _Yes,_ she thought, _just like a teenager - get a bloody grip, Elsie!_

"Daisy must have had fun getting ready with Marigold," she mused.

Charles nodded. "Yes, I dropped her off this morning, which was wonderful for Edith because Daisy kept Marigold occupied. She's looking forward to staying tonight." He looked at Elsie uncertainly, not wanting to ask the inevitable question: _Would she come home with him?_

But Elsie avoided that by now, surprising him instead. "It's lovely that you're all so close. The Crawleys must have been such a comfort when Alice died."

"Yes, they were," he said. "Daisy wouldn't speak to them, of course, but it didn't matter. Cora, in particular, was just magnificent. She was a teaching assistant when she met Robert, did you know that?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, I didn't. But she gave it up?"

"She did, but she was quite good at it. Taught in an art classroom - she has a degree in Art History. She's amazing with children, it's no surprise where Edith gets it from."

"And Daisy loves art," Elsie murmured, another detail that clicked into place. "How blessed you are to have them."

"I truly am," he said, taking her hand in his. "I've been blessed in a number of ways in my life," he added, "and I hope my good fortune continues."

They rode the rest of the way to the church in silence, lost in thoughts of the implications of his statement.

* * *

The service was lovely, and Elsie couldn't have been happier for Edith. The couple had dispensed with the idea of "bride's side / groom's side" seating as Bertie had virtually no family to speak of; therefore, as Elsie glanced around the small crowd, she was happy to note that everyone was fairly well mixed together.

Charles was considered part of the family, though, which meant that he, Daisy, and Elsie were seated in second pew on the left. Elsie heard every word of Bertie's wavering vows, and her heart skipped a beat when the poor man almost didn't make it through the final words, 'until death do us part.' But Edith's voice rang loud and clear and, when she uttered the last syllable, Elsie noticed both Charles and, surprisingly, Mary, wipe away a few tears.

 _Well, well … the ice princess has feelings after all._ Elsie knew her sentiments weren't fair, but she just couldn't help but be suspicious of the elder Crawley daughter.

As the newly-married Pelhams made their way back down the aisle, Elsie gave a small wave across the aisle to Phyllis and Joe, happy that they'd come together.

 _Finally,_ Elsie thought. _It certainly took_ _ **them**_ _long enough._

She took Charles's arm as they followed the family out of the church, noticing Daisy's happy gait as she trotted along in front of them, holding Marigold's hand. The two girls were almost like sisters, a thought that made Elsie's heart twinge for a moment.

Charles noticed the pained expression, and he bent down to whisper in her ear. "Are you alright?"

"I am," she replied, squeezing his arm. "But thank you for checking."

He said nothing in reply, but told himself to keep a careful eye on her for the rest of the evening. Something had made her sad and, even though she tried to hide it, Charles found he was already quite adept at reading the feelings that passed over her face. He just wished he knew what it was that had so briefly upset her.

Four limousines carried the family to the reception: Bertie and Edith in the first, Robert, Cora, Violet, and the children in the second; Mary and Richard Carlisle in the third; and Charles and Elsie bringing up the rear. The hotel was five minutes from the church, and Elsie and Charles simply enjoyed the calm of the ride before the flurry of activity and chatter that the reception would bring.

Charles leaned down and whispered in Elsie's ear as they pulled up to the front of the hotel. "Will you save a dance for me?" he asked, and she shuddered as his breath warmed the skin on her neck.

She turned swiftly and captured his lips in a quick kiss. "I'll save them _all_ for you, if you'd like."

His brilliant smile as he exited the car made Mary, who'd been waiting for them to arrive, wonder just _what,_ exactly, they'd been up to.

* * *

"Well, now, that _is_ quite the story!" Elsie laughed, draining the remainder of her third glass of wine. Violet was laughing uproariously, only stopping when she saw the look on Charles's face.

"Oh, come now, Charles, surely you can trust Elsie here not to spill your secrets?" she teased.

"Oh, Charles, I never would!" Elsie promised, breaking into giggles again at sight of him pouting.

"Well, evidently I can't trust _you lot_ not to spill them! And how was I to know the fish would bite? I didn't know it would have _teeth!"_ he argued, shooting a nasty look across the table at a rather-drunk Robert. " _You_ certainly never warned me," he grumbled.

But then the band started playing a new song, and Charles's expression turned into a happy smile as he recognized it.

"Care to dance?" he asked Elsie, extending his hand.

"I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, excusing herself to the others as she allowed Charles to lead her onto the dance floor. Once again, they both marveled at how easily they fit together - her now in heels, of course, making it even nicer. Elsie started a bit when Charles bent down, thinking he was looking to kiss her in front of the entire family, but instead he began to softly serenade her with the words to the song:

 _When we are dancing_

 _And you're dangerously near me_

 _I get ideas, I get ideas_

 _I want to hold you_

 _So much closer than I dare to_

 _I want to scold you_

 _'Cause I care more than I care to_

 _And when you touch me_

 _And there's fire in every finger_

 _I get ideas, I get ideas_

 _And after we have kissed goodnight_

 _And still you linger_

 _I kinda think you get ideas too_

 _Your eyes are always saying_

 _The things you're never saying_

 _I only hope they're saying_

 _That you could love me too_

 _For that's the whole idea, it's true_

 _The lovely idea that_

 _I'm falling in love with you_

She gasped at that last line and looked up at him, wide-eyed with realization. Charles bent his head and brushed his lips over hers - the briefest touch, yet full of promise.

 _This man LOVES you, Elsie. This weekend. You tell him this weekend._

* * *

 **A wee review would be much appreciated - thanks! x _  
_**


	15. Elsie's Story

**A/N: Here you go - I know you've all been VERY anxiously awaiting this chapter! I do apologize that this is the end of what I have written. I'm heading off to get a couple updates in for "Music of Our Lives," but will return to this one next week, perhaps in time for a nice Christmas-themed chapter set in Misty Cove.**

 **T/W: Pregnancy loss (kudos, Ms. meetmeinstlouie, for the good guess).**

 **T/W: Brief mention of automobile fatality**

 **Song inspiration: "I'm Movin' On" - Rascal Flatts** **It's a song I used way back when in "Music of the Heart." To listen to it, you can visit Spotify's website, my username is ChelsieSouloftheAbbey, and the playlist is "After the Fall." This is one of my favorite songs I've ever used in any fic.**

 **Love to you all, and best wishes for a Very Happy Christmas! xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _At last I can see_**

 ** _Life has been patiently waiting for me_**

 ** _And I know there's no guarantee,_**

 ** _but I'm not alone ..._**

 ** _I've found you find strength_**

 ** _In your moments of weakness_**

 ** _For once I'm at peace with myself ..._**

 ** _I've been burdened with blame_**

 ** _Trapped in the past for too long_**

 ** _I'm movin' on ..._**

* * *

 _ **After the wedding ...**_

"Be good," Charles advised Daisy, kissing her on the forehead.

"I will," she whispered in his ear. She gave him one more hug, then headed over to surprise Elsie with one as well.

"You looked absolutely _lovely_ today," Elsie told her. "Now be sure to have fun with Marigold, and I'll see you on Wednesday at the farm." She gave Daisy a little wink, then laughed lovingly when Daisy tried to return it, failing miserably.

"It just takes practice," she said lightly, and Daisy nodded.

"It was so nice to finally meet you, Ms. Hughes," Violet said, shaking Elsie's hand.

"Please, call me Elsie." She smiled, and was pleased to see it returned in kind.

"Then you'll have to call me Violet," she answered with a smirk. "I do hope I'll be seeing more of you in the future."

"I know that _I_ certainly hope you will," Charles answered, reaching down to kiss Violet's cheek. "Now get back to the house and get some sleep. I know there's no way you slept on that plane, you've been run ragged since arriving, and you have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow helping Robert and Cora watch the little hellions." The look he received from Daisy had them all laughing again.

With another round of goodbyes given, Elsie felt Charles's hand at the small of her back, his breath warm on her neck as he whispered in her ear.

"Ready to go?"

She looked up at him and nodded, trying her best to stifle a yawn. It was late, after all, and she'd had a few glasses of Chardonnay. But any fatigue she felt disappeared as soon as the cold, outside air hit her full-force in the face. She pulled her wrap more tightly around her arms and hurried to the limo, grateful for its close proximity to the hotel. They practically jumped through the door of the car.

"What the hell?" Charles grumbled. "It's _freezing!"_

Elsie laughed at him. "Well, it _is_ Maine, and you _are_ on the ocean, and it _is_ almost Christmas. Things get cold up here rather rapidly after the fall is ov- "

He bent down and silenced her with a quick kiss, one that was followed by another, and then a third, growing progressively more heated as they went on. Elsie finally put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a bit.

"I just need to catch my breath," she gasped.

"Well, I'm certainly not cold anymore," he smirked, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. "And I had a lovely time tonight. Thank you for coming _with_ me instead of just meeting me there. I wasn't sure you'd want to, to tell the truth. It's kind of a public statement."

"It was my pleasure," she purred, leaning over and resting her head on his shoulder. "It felt nice to be on the arm of the most handsome man in the place."

His laughter was loud as it bounced around the inside of the car. "She's got looks _and_ a sense of humor," he teased.

"Believe what you want," she said, tucking herself more securely against him. "I know the truth."

They spent the rest of the ride chatting about the wedding itself, both of them ridiculously happy for Edith and thrilled with how much in love she and Bertie truly were.

"I hope they can maintain that," Charles mused. "Marriage isn't always an easy business."

"No, it's not," she replied quietly. "But they're hardly in the blush of youth. Edith has a good deal of life experience, as does Bertie. I think they're well-prepared to tackle what comes their way."

As the car turned down her drive, Elsie smiled approvingly at the soft light that shone from the lamppost set outside of the barn. She knew Anna had left it on in case Elsie wanted to look in on the horses - Anna always did that, but Elsie never checked. Anna knew her job well, and she adored the horses. Elsie was certain that they were nicely tucked into clean, warm stalls … and that Scarlett was likely fast asleep already.

Charles licked his lips and saw Elsie lost in thought, gazing out to the barn.

"Elsie?"

"Hmm?" she said, turning towards him. "Oh, don't mind me, just running through a few things in my mind."

He squeezed her hand, and it reminded her that she didn't want to let his go. The car came to a complete stop by the front door, and Stevens stepped out.

"You are coming in, I hope?" she asked Charles.

His eyebrows raised slowly as a smile played across his face. "Why, Elsie, that sounds a bit … risqué."

"Good," she replied, leaning in to kiss him. She allowed the tip of her tongue to run across his, then backed away as Stevens opened the door.

"Thank you, Stevens," she said as she took his hand and alighted from the car.

Charles followed her out of the car and reached into his billfold, then handed Stevens a generous tip. "It's been a pleasure."

"Likewise, Mr. Carson," he nodded, sparing a moment to glance at Elsie, who was already on the front step and unlocking her door. "I wouldn't let that one slip away," he added under his breath. "Lovely _and_ kind … not many like that anymore, sir."

"Don't I know it," Charles replied, following the man's gaze. "And don't worry - I won't."

Stevens tipped his hat to Charles, then climbed back into the limo and drove away.

Charles headed to the door, where Elsie was waiting for him. He felt a bit awkward, truth be told, to be returning to her house and not his own. He was well aware that he, like Elsie last time, hadn't packed for an overnight trip.

"Would you like some tea?" Elsie's voice was coming at him from the kitchen, and he reached down to scratch Max's ears.

"That would be lovely, actually," he admitted. "Shall I light a fire?"

"Oh, would you? I am rubbish at getting that thing going," she said, pointing in the general direction of her wood stove. "Takes me forever."

She reached up to retrieve the tea from the cupboard and Charles took a moment to appreciate the look of her body as she stretched. He turned away quickly, however, not wanting to be caught out. Elsie had a way of making him feel like a schoolboy in need of a scolding … and he liked that feeling a little bit _too_ much.

She prepared the tea tray as Charles removed his jacket. He got the living room fire going and then moved on to the smaller stove in the sunroom; that one was gas, and so he just flipped the switch to ignite it. Elsie brought the tea down there instead of to the parlour, and then looked out the windows and gasped.

Charles followed her eyes and smiled. It was snowing, finally. He'd been waiting like an impatient child for the snow to start, having heard how pretty it could be in this part of the world.

"Simply lovely," he said softly, and Elsie tilted her head as she contemplated his faraway gaze. He was staring outside like an innocent child, appreciating how the glass walls of the room made it feel as though they were standing directly _in_ the gentle snowfall.

"Do you like the snow? I didn't have you down as a winter fan." She reached to hand him his tea, which he slipped slowly as he continued to peer through the glass walls to the pond that lay just past the door. It wasn't frozen yet, but he imagined it would be by Christmas.

"Oh, I think it's magical," he answered, his deep voice reverberating somewhere deep inside of Elsie's abdomen as he stared out the window. "Once, when Daisy was two, we were on holiday in the mountains. She'd never really experienced much snow, and I remember the complete _joy_ on her face as we went outside and I showed her how to tip her head back, catching the flakes on her tongue."

"Aw, that's lovely," Elsie said. She moved to stand beside Charles, wrapping her arm around his waist as he reached his own arm out to pull her in closely. "I'm glad you've got so many happy memories of her childhood. Some families don't have that."

The sadness in her voice took him aback, and he contemplated her words. "No, some families don't," he agreed, not sure of where her thoughts were headed. "Did _you_ not have that?"

"No," she whispered. "But I am glad you do."

Charles drained his cup and placed it and hers on the tray, then turned and placed his hands on Elsie's cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. As he looked into her eyes he saw a strange combination of sadness mixed with longing. He drew her face toward his slowly for a soft, languid kiss that became slightly more heated as his fingers pressed into her swept-up hair, loosening it slightly as the seconds ticked by.

"Stay," she breathed. "You _are_ staying, aren't you? Please?"

"Yes," he answered, "I'd like to, if you want me."

She smiled brightly at that, then bit down on her lip, that habit of hers that drove him mad with desire when he saw it.

"Oh, but I do," she said, kissing his chin. "I'm afraid that I want you very much, indeed."

Reaching down for his hand, Elsie turned and led him up to the bedroom.

* * *

Much later, the flickering candlelight was casting soft shadows onto the walls of the bedroom. Elsie lay with her head on Charles's chest, her arm reaching over his stomach, and he was running his fingertips slowly up and down her back, massaging it gently as he did so. He reached down and placed a soft kiss to her hair.

"Tell me about your childhood, Elsie," Charles said into the quiet of her bedroom. He suspected that she was hiding some great sadness, and he felt as though he could empathize with her, if only she would trust him with the truth.

He felt her body stiffen somewhat at his request, then relax as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"It wasn't terribly happy."

"I'm sorry. Is that why you work with children?"

Elsie lifted her head and looked up at him, placing her hands on his chest and resting her chin on top of them so that she was looking at him. "Yes, actually - one of the reasons, anyway. You can be very perceptive yourself, you know."

"When there's something I'm interested in, yes, I can be," he answered honestly.

"And you are interested in me?" she teased.

He ran his hand down her side, cupping her bottom and squeezing it gently as she stretched her leg across his body and pulled herself further on top of him, sitting on his thighs. "Why, Ms. Hughes, didn't you know?"

She reached her hands down and smiled as he gasped at her touch. "Well, it does appear that way now, doesn't it?"

 _She didn't really answer your question,_ was his last coherent thought before all of his musings vanished, replaced only by his mind and body's reaction to her gentle, then passionate, touches.

* * *

Charles woke again hours later with a start as a crashing sound came from … somewhere.

He looked around the room and took a moment to remember where he was. He smiled as he saw Elsie's bedroom in the full, bright daylight. It suited her, he thought, with its soft, pale blue walls, dark wood furniture - _the good kind,_ he couldn't help but notice, _not the pressed-together things you found at so many stores these days._ There was a slightly cluttered pile of books on the table by the vanity, next to which sat a quilt rack, two clearly-handmade quilts hanging down from it. The room was soft, strong, and comforting.

As he swung his legs out from underneath the covers, Charles remembered that he'd shown up to Elsie's house in a tuxedo. Shaking his head, he reached for the shirt only to find it not where he'd left it. He looked around the room and saw the tux draped over a hanger on the front of the bedroom door and, hanging over it, a man's bathrobe. The entire situation mirrored their _last_ date so strangely that he had to chuckle. He donned the robe quickly, then went in search of the source of the crash.

"Good morning," he yawned, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Is everything alright out here?"

Elsie looked up from her morning paper and tea and smiled at him, biting on her lip again as she contemplated his fresh-out-of-bed appearance. It stirred that now-familiar feeling in her abdomen and made her heart race a bit. She took off her reading glasses and laid them on the paper, then got up to kiss him good morning. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him tightly, and she sighed with happiness.

"It was Max, and he's been properly scolded. He decided he was hungry even though he'd _just_ eaten, and when he's hungry he's no better than a petulant child, taking his dish up in his mouth and dropping it on the floor. Metal on slate … not so quiet."

"Dog after my own heart," Charles replied, making his way to the table to sit. "Thank you for the robe. I am not sure I want to ask why you have it."

Elsie moved away from the table and didn't speak for a moment. She got him a teacup and a plate onto which she put two muffins, then sat back down at the table, directly across from him.

"It was Joe's," she said softly.

"The man in the picture on your mantle?" he asked, not wanting to follow it with the next logical question … but there was no need, because she anticipated it already.

"Yes. He was my husband," she said.

Charles's eyebrows shot up. "You were _married?"_

"Mm-hm. For fourteen years. He died … in an automobile accident, if you can believe it. Hit by a drunk driver - he died on the way to the hospital." She paused a moment before continuing. "That's partly why I didn't tell you about him earlier. I didn't want to make it harder for you, coming here, being reminded of your own life's sadness."

"Oh, Elsie, how awful for you. Were you happy with him?" He reached across the table for her hand, which she gave to him gratefully.

"In the beginning, yes." She took a deep breath. _Now or never, Elsie._

"Alright," he replied softly, somewhat frustrated with both the fact that she wasn't speaking and his own insistence at pushing her.

"I was so young when Joe and I met, and so lonely," she whispered. "We'd sort of run away from home, my sister and I, with only each other for company."

 _Sister?_ he thought, but kept silent. _One thing at a time._

"My father was quite abusive, and my Mam died when I was still a teenager. I got a job and finished school and, as soon as I could afford it, I left with my sister like a thief in the night. I fell into a new job in England, thank God, with the help of a wonderful woman I happened to meet the day I arrived.

"I met Joe a few months after we moved, and he swept me off my feet. I'd never gone out with any boys at home, of course, for a variety of reasons: my life would have been too hard to explain to them, my Da never would have approved of them anyhow, and I simply never wanted to bring anyone to my house - for reasons which I'm sure you can guess."

Charles nodded, the feeling ringing all too familiar with him.

"Joe _adored_ Becky, and once we decided to marry he moved us out of our flat and into his, which was larger. He was such a good, kind man, and Becky was the light of our lives." Elsie looked at Charles then, knowing he had to understand about Becky … and that she needed to see in his eyes what his reaction would be.

"Becky is … special. She suffers from a number of developmental disabilities. She looks like an adult, but when you speak to her you realize she's not _mentally_ an adult. The more you talk to her, the more she seems to be about Daisy's age rather than a woman who's just entered her forties. But she also suffers from something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder,* and is prone to fits of rage."

"I see," he said, nodding, and Elsie saw an overwhelming kindness in his eyes. "And you were afraid that … what? I'd shun you for this? That I'd not be as accepting of Becky as you'd like me to be? Elsie, darling," he said softly, caressing her hand, "I could never do that. She's your _family,_ she's a part of you, and I am sure I will adore her."

His conviction, not to mention interest in meeting Becky, was the inspiration she needed to continue, and she squeezed his hand in thanks and nodded. She was grateful to have the corner of the table between them; it afforded him the ability to hold her hand and comfort her, but it provided enough distance that she was able to keep her wits about her.

"Well, as I was saying, when Joe and I discussed marriage, he insisted right away that Becky would continue live with us instead of putting her into some institution as her doctor had recommended. It worked fine in the beginning and, after the wedding, she seemed to be doing even _better_. Becky was in a quiet, safe home at last, and she was thriving. Joe was the farm manager for an enormous property two towns over, and while he spent long days there he was home for dinner every night _and_ on most weekends, because he insisted on having someone else to manage things for him there so that he could be around for our 'family time.' Becky was at her best when she lived with us, truly … in the early years, anyhow.

"Joe and I wanted so badly to have a child of our own. We tried for ages, and it seemed evident after a while that things weren't going to work out for us in that regard. Joe kept insisting it was fine, kept telling me our little family of three was enough. And, in some ways, having Becky really _was_ like having a child. Not my own, of course, but I was more of a mother to her than our Mam had been."

Charles let that one slide, knowing he couldn't press for too much, but he filed that statement away to come back to later. It only made her more endearing to him, this perseverance she'd clearly had all her life having made her into the woman who now sat before him at her table.

"It _was_ a strain on our marriage, though, and I could see it before Joe could. I wanted a child _so badly,_ Charles, and not just for Joe. I'd always wanted to be a mother, and the fact that it was being denied to me broke my heart. I was angry, furious with the world, and it turned me bitter for a time."

"Clearly that has changed," he said, smiling. "For that is not the Elsie that _I_ know."

She smiled back. "Thank you for that," she said softly. "And you are right, I did change. But it got so much worse before it got better. You see, after about ten years, I found myself suddenly pregnant."

His face fell a bit then, and she saw the sorrow and knowledge in his eyes … and despite how sad it made her to see his sorrow, she knew at that moment that she'd be alright; she finally understood without a doubt that this kind, wonderful man before her would be just what she needed to finally make peace with her past.

"Much like my own situation," he murmured, "and yet so very different, obviously."

"Yes." She sighed. "Because clearly I _don't_ have a child."

"No," he said sadly, knowing now where she was headed. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it, but refused to let it go.

"I told Joe about the pregnancy as soon as I'd found out, and he could not have been happier. But his happiness came at Becky's expense; you see, once he found out we'd be having a child of our own, all of his attention went into _that_ and was no longer directed at _her._ She felt shunned and unwanted, and as I was always so defensive of her it put a strain on our marriage when I pointed it out to Joe. The change in atmosphere at our house caused her outbursts to start up again. Joe became overprotective of me, and he wouldn't let me near Becky when she was having one of her fits. I know she'd never have hurt me, but he didn't trust her.

"And then," she added, "four months later, we lost the baby. I had a spill at work - tripped and fell on the staircase. It was nothing that should have caused such a result, but my body had other ideas. The doctor told me sometimes that's just how it happens. I _knew_ that, of course, being a nurse, but somehow it's different when it's you and not a patient you don't know personally. I was devastated, but Joe was absolutely beside himself with grief. I suspect that he held me partially responsible - he even said he was surprised I'd not been more careful - but he denied ever thinking that way. Still, I couldn't bring myself to believe him, not entirely.

"Becky didn't know how to handle all of the sadness and she had a breakdown, and I had to hospitalize her. Joe couldn't see how I could be spending all my energy on Becky and not on helping him to cope with the loss of the baby, and I just lost it. We had a huge row that night, the first of many. It was the beginning of the end, I think, of our marriage. I tried to hold onto the hope that we'd get over it, but I always suspected in the back of my mind that we wouldn't - that _Joe_ wouldn't."

"And I presume you didn't conceive again?" he asked sadly. Elsie just shook her head and took a deep, steadying breath.

"No," she finally answered, "and the pressure of it all became too great. Joe was insistent on having a biological child at that point, because he figured if I'd been able to get pregnant once then it could certainly happen again. I couldn't understand the complete change in his feeling about it, and I was still coping with the loss of the baby - I'd not really been able to mourn that because I was so focused on making sure Becky would be well. Joe wanted me to go in for testing, perhaps use in-vitro … I was pressuring him to adopt, or to just let it be. We had another huge argument about it – New Year's Eve, it was – and he stormed out …"

Charles gasped loudly and reached for her hand again, taking it in both of his and giving it a steadying squeeze. "Oh, my God, Elsie."

She was crying softly by this point but finished the story nonetheless, knowing once she got it out it would be for the best. "Yes. The police showed up at the house, and I knew immediately what had happened."

She saw him nod slowly in understanding, and her heart almost broke in two.

"I went to identify the car, that was the worst bit, but there was no doubt it was Joe's. I had to tell Becky, and it broke her completely, poor soul. We moved here to get away from it all, because no matter where we were over there, it just reminded us of him. It's all farmland where we were, you see, and …" She trailed off, feeling so very drained. "Well, anyhow, my _L'il Farm_ is different."

And the last bit clicked into place in Charles's head. "Wait … that means Becky lives somewhere near here. And you must visit her regularly? _That's_ where you went on the weekends you were away?"

Elsie nodded. "Yes. I wanted to tell you, I truly did, but there was no way to tell you about Becky and not explain about Joe."

"But what were you afraid of?" he asked, clearly not grasping the root of her fear. "Why were you afraid to tell me all of it? I don't understand."

"Oh, you dear, dear man," she whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek in her hand. "Of course, you wouldn't even suspect it, would you?"

He just shook his head slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Here you come, this wonderful, _lovely_ man, with an equally wonderful, lovely _daughter_. It was everything I wanted and could never have."

"You were afraid I'd think you loved me because of _Daisy?"_ he asked incredulously, not noticing his choice of words amidst his confusion. "Elsie, you could _never_ do that."

"But you didn't _know_ that when you met me, Charles! How could you possibly? I didn't want to risk telling you and having that always be in the back of your mind whenever you looked at me." She got up from the table and brought their things to the sink, overpowered by the need to suddenly _do_ something.

She heard him get up and follow her, but she started washing out the cups anyway. Charles came up behind her and placed his hands on her waist, encouraging her to lean back on him. He rested his chin lightly on her head and wrapped his arms around her body; when she felt his chest shudder she turned back to look at him.

"Oh, Charles," she said, turning and reaching up to wipe his tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to …"

"Shh," he answered, then leaned down to kiss her. He pulled away after a moment, and looked deep into her eyes.

"I love you, Elsie," he said clearly. _"I love you._ I was so afraid to tell you that before, and I'm not sure how to convince you that it has nothing to do with how you've helped Daisy, but everything to do with how you've helped _me. I_ was afraid, too - afraid that you'd think my feelings stemmed from what you had _done_ and not because of _who you are._ I never knew anyone could fall in love this quickly, or this deeply, and I see now that there's an entire aspect to my life that I've been missing out on.

"I thought I'd found happiness once before, and I thought I could never find that again. But I was so wrong, you see. The happiness I found before was incomplete. Don't get me wrong - I adore Daisy. She is, without a doubt, one of the best things that's ever happened to me." He took a deep breath. "And _you,_ I am now certain, are the other."

Elsie shook her head and turned her head away from him, but he touched his forefinger to her chin and gently encouraged her to look at him once again.

"I mean it, Elsie. I'm heartbroken to hear your story, but am so glad you've told me. I don't want any secrets between us. I want you to tell me everything … always. I want there to _be_ an always with you. At the very least, I want you to consider that there could be."

She couldn't hold her emotions in check anymore, and just broke down in his arms. He held her until she regained some semblance of control.

"I promise I will," she said. "I've been trying to tell myself I couldn't be in love with you, that I was fooling myself, but clearly that is not the case."

"What made you change your mind?" he asked. "Because I feel that it was made up before this morning."

She laughed. "It was last night, when I was talking to Violet, before you came over to the table," she admitted.

"Violet?" he asked incredulously. "Truly?" Charles appreciated the caring that Violet had shown him over his lifetime, the way she'd stepped in and become the loving mother he never really had. But he had no blinders on when it came to how the rest of the world saw her: cold, opinionated, and nosing around in places she'd have done better not to have ventured.

"Yes. And Edith and Phyllis told me weeks ago to tell you everything," she admitted, "but I was too afraid to until last night. I got quite a speech from Violet, I can tell you." She chuckled as she wiped away the last of her tears. "She said she just looked at me, at how I acted when you were near, and she just _knew._ She waited until we were alone, then she told me rather firmly how wonderful you are … and about how you deserve a woman who sees that at last."

"I'm glad," he whispered. "She's always been my biggest champion."

She leaned back and looked him directly in his large, lovely eyes, in which she saw tiny flecks of brown, gray, green … and huge amounts of love.

"Charles?" she asked, and he tightened his arms around her.

"Yes?"

She took a deep breath, and realized she was at peace at last.

"I love you, too."

* * *

 ***For more on Intermittent Explosive Disorder, please visit The Mayo Clinic's website. It is a very real illness, I can assure you. Also, I proofed this on the fly, so please pardon any typos.**


	16. Christmas

**A/N: A little Christmas love to my wonderful followers. :) Hidden gem for the person who wanted Charles's robe to smell like Elsie's perfume a couple of chapters ago. For the guest reviewer who said they didn't know how to set up an account, just click "Login" at the top of the page and it'll lead you through the sign up process. Please do set up accounts so that I can reply to you all.**

 **Also a selfish nod to two of my favorite Christmas songs.**

 **Merry Christmas to you and your families. xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _Monday, December 22, 2014_**

Charles woke up in bed and rolled onto his side, reaching across the mattress to lay his hand on …

 _Nothing._

He opened his eyes and saw Elsie's side of his bed, rumpled but empty.

 _Elsie's side of the bed? Really? She's spent two nights in it!_

He rolled over to the edge and found her note, propped up against the lamp, and smiled as he reached for it.

 _Good morning -_

 _Gone to feed the zoo and grab some clothes. Back soon. x_

 _-Els_

He read it three times before laying it back on the nightstand and maneuvering himself over to her side of the bed. He placed his head on the pillow she'd used last night and inhaled, and his stomach fluttered happily as he realized it already smelled like her. He'd noticed that about his robe the first time she'd stayed, and it was thrilling to discover that he looked forward to that happening a _third_ time. It was as though she were making her presence known in his life even when she wasn't _present._

Charles rather liked that, and sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever force had brought her into his life.

And then he remembered that Christmas was in three days, and neither he nor Elsie had procured a tree yet. He did have Daisy's gifts sorted, thank goodness.

He hopped out of bed and headed into the shower, hoping to be done by the time Elsie returned.

Suddenly, his first Christmas away from England was looking a whole lot brighter, indeed.

* * *

Elsie pulled into Charles's driveway and parked his car. She wondered if he'd mind that she'd taken it, but she really hadn't wanted to wake him.

 _Perhaps I can wake him now,_ she thought with a smile, already fabricating ways in her mind which she could do that very thing.

However, the sight that greeted her when she walked in the front door was _not_ what she'd expected at all, and any thoughts she'd had involving slipping back into bed by his side vanished instantly.

Her senses were first assaulted by the smell of cinnamon and clove, no doubt coming from the cast iron kettle set atop the wood stove, steam pouring from its spout. There were Christmas carols playing throughout the house; Elsie wondered for a split second why she'd not noticed that there were speakers everywhere and not just in the room with the piano.

Elsie removed her gloves and boots, then hung her coat on the hook and made her way slowly down the hall, a smile on her face. As she got closer to the kitchen, she could hear Charles's deep baritone singing along with the carols.

 _Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy,_

 _Do you hear what I hear?_

 _Ringing through the sky, shepherd boy,_

 _Do you hear what I hear?_

He hadn't realized she was behind him, so she did the only thing she could, really: she sneaked up behind him and joined her voice with his, startling him; he turned around and smiled and, together, they finished the verse in perfect harmony.

 _A song, a song high above the trees_

 _With a voice as big as the sea,_

 _With a voice as big as the sea._

"You're back," he said warmly, reaching out for a kiss - which she readily gave him.

"I am. I hope you didn't mind my leaving with your car, but as you picked me up for dinner last night ..."

"Not at all," he answered. "How was everyone?"

"Doing wonderfully, thanks. Anna spent the night at the house, actually, instead of bringing Max home with her. He was thrilled, to say the least."

They stood for a moment looking at one another, not speaking, lost in thoughts of last night: take-away Chinese food, brought to Charles's place, consumed along with a bottle of wine at kitchen counter. They'd decided to forego the formal dining room table in favor of the ease of the counter, and had spent two hours leisurely eating, drinking, and talking. When the counter chairs were no longer comfortable nor sensible, they'd moved to the living room and cuddled up in front of a Christmas film that was playing on TV. When Elsie had started to doze, Charles had nudged her and suggested that they go to bed. She'd complied readily, realizing once they'd gotten to the bedroom that she wasn't so tired after all.

Elsie was the first to snap out of their hazy, shared memory.

"Someone turned into Father Christmas when I was gone," she teased. "What's all this about?"

"I woke up and realized Christmas will be here in three days," he replied, kissing her nose and then moving over to the oven, where Elsie noted he had a tray of cookies baking. As he removed the cookie sheet and placed it on the stove top, he added, "Neither of us has a tree, something which I think we should rectify today."

"I see," she nodded. "So we are to procure and decorate two trees today?"

"Almost. Daisy and I decorate ours on Christmas Eve, actually, so I suppose only yours will need to be done before then." He moved the cookies from the sheet to a cooling rack, where a dozen and a half were already set.

"I see. Alright, then … how many more of these have to go in the oven?" she asked, sneaking one of the cooled gingerbread men and biting its head off before Charles could snatch it out of her hand.

"Those are supposed to be frosted," he grumbled, and Elsie laughed. "What?" he asked her.

"You! You're all … Christmassy. I didn't expect it, I suppose."

"Do you approve, Ms. Hughes?" he asked seductively, snaking an arm around her waist and stealing a bit of the cookie.

"I do, actually. I love Christmas. Let's finish this up and then we'll head to see John about a couple of trees. Let me call Anna and see if she's still around to help - if you don't mind."

"Not at all," he replied, sliding the last tray of cookies in. "I need 14 minutes for these, and then I'm all yours."

Elsie looked up at him fondly as the phone began to ring in her ear.

"Yes, I suppose you are, now," she mused, tilting her head. "Although I _do_ have to share you with one adorable little angel … but that's perfectly alright."

The smile she got back in reply was priceless; just then, Anna answered her phone.

"Elsie?" Anna's voice sounded. "Everything alright?"

"Perfectly fine, dear. We're heading up to John's place to get a couple of trees. Fancy a ride?"

"Are you sure you'd like company?" Anna asked.

"Absolutely," Elsie said. "Pick you up in … half an hour?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in silent question to Charles, who nodded his agreement.

"Sounds good - thanks, Elsie!"

Elsie slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans and turned to Charles.

"That girl is so in love with John Bates it's not even funny, and I think he returns the sentiment. I hope you don't mind, but as Anna's friend …"

"You needed to help out in the matchmaker department - yes, I gathered that. And it's fine by me," he smiled.

"Good. Now what does a girl have to do to get her hands on another cookie around here?" she asked playfully, hands on her hips.

"Well," Charles said seductively, "given that we only have -" he glanced at the oven timer " -ten minutes, I'm going to say she needs to kiss the cook."

"I could make that _take_ ten minutes," she purred.

"I'm counting on it," he replied, pulling her into his arms as their lips met … and, ten minutes later, were separated by the buzz of the timer.

* * *

The Volvo bounced up the dirt road as the Bates Tree Farm came into view.

"I can't believe how much it's changed since we came apple picking," Charles marveled, pulling into the nearest parking spot and getting out of the car.

"He does an amazing job, and his mother is so creative and clever," Anna sighed as she closed her door behind her.

Charles looked sideways at Elsie and smirked, his knowing glance saying he wholeheartedly agreed with her: Anna Smith was, indeed, smitten.

Just then, Mrs. Bates came into view.

"Elsie!" she called, waving.

Charles looked up and saw a short, stout woman with long, white hair tied back in a ponytail. He would have put her age at just a bit past his own, but her face showed all the youthful vigor of a woman half that.

"And you must be Mr. Carson," she said, offering her hand. "Fiona Bates, John's mother."

"Charles, please," he said, shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm sorry I missed you and your daughter when you came apple picking - I hear she was quite taken with the experience."

Charles was puzzled. "And you heard this … how?" he asked.

"Oh, Charles," she laughed. "It's a small town, or haven't you realized? There are no secrets in Misty Cove."

Charles blushed a bit, and Elsie decided to step in and save him.

"I do keep telling him that, Fiona. Tell me," she said, taking the woman's arm in her own and heading off in the direction of the Christmas trees, "how are your family in Ireland?"

As their voices trailed off, Charles felt something tap at his elbow.

"Mr. Carson?" Anna said meekly. "Shall we follow them?"

He cleared his throat, embarrassed at having been caught staring after Elsie.

"Of course, Anna. Tell me … how old is Mrs. Bates?"

Anna giggled. "I've no idea, but I know what you're thinking. We call her John's Christmas Elf - she seems so youthful and just has such a twinkle about her, don't you think?"

"Indeed," he chuckled.

As they caught up to the older women, Charles finally spotted John.

"Anna!" John exclaimed, smiling broadly.

"Good morning! Looks like you're busy today - lots of folks waiting until the last minute?"

"Some of us have no choice!" Elsie called. "Wood stove, don't you know?"

"And some of us have been rather busy doing _other things,"_ Fiona mumbled so that only Elsie could hear.

"Oh, don't _you_ start," Elsie muttered under her breath.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Fiona replied, squeezing Elsie's arm lovingly. "You've no idea how truly happy we are for you, love."

Elsie smiled and nodded, happiness written all over her face as she turned and winked at Charles.

"Thank you."

An hour later Elsie, Charles, and Anna were piling back into the car, two trees netted and secured on the roof rack.

"Let them settle until tonight and you should be all set," John advised, patting the roof of the car as Charles closed the door.

"Will do," he replied. "Good to see you again, John."

"Likewise. Will I see you all at church tonight?" He looked expectantly at Anna, who nodded.

"I believe so," Elsie answered, and Charles nodded.

"We'll be there."

* * *

"Alright, then - tighten it up!" Elsie backed away from the tree and admired it, cocking her head to be sure it was straight.

"Sure thing!" came Anna's muffled exclamation from underneath the branches. She tightened the tree stand's screws and crawled out from underneath. "Look good?"

"Perfect," Charles murmured, staring at the tree, Elsie standing in front of it, and the snow that was falling just outside Elsie's bay window. "Truly, it's the perfect Christmas picture."

Elsie looked down at the floor, embarrassed for his (and her) feelings to be so evident in front of Anna. She needn't have worried, though, for Anna had turned away to toss another log on the fire in Elsie's stove.

"Alright, then … that's you two sorted for trees. If you don't mind, Elsie, I'm heading home to finish up some wrapping. But I'll be around Wednesday for Daisy's appointment. Do you need anything from the mall? I think I might have to head there between now and then," she added with a shudder.

"No," Elsie laughed, "I'm all set, but thank you."

Anna gave Elsie a hug and a quick peck on the cheek, then surprised Charles with the same.

"See you all later, then," she said, making her way out the door.

"Bye."

Elsie turned and saw Charles staring at her intently.

"No," she warned. "Don't you dare look at me that way, Mr. Carson. I have _way_ too many things to take care of between now and Wednesday morning."

"Look at you _how,_ exactly?" he said softly, approaching her slowly as she backed away from him, lip clenched between her teeth.

"Like I'm some kind of _prey,"_ she replied, chuckling. She ended up backed against the couch, and put her hand up onto his chest to stop him from advancing any further.

"Give me two more hours of your time, and I swear I'll leave you alone until Wednesday - and by then Daisy will be home," he whispered. "Cross my heart."

Elsie's eyes flitted to the clock on the mantle, then back to the gorgeous man before her.

"Two hours, hm?" she asked, licking her lips slowly as she contemplated her schedule. "Oh, the hell with it - you can stay."

The words were barely out of her mouth before she found herself tackled and virtually pinned to her couch, somehow lying rather comfortably beneath the gentle giant that was Charles. His lips were playing over her neck, and her giggles at having been tossed onto the sofa quickly turned to soft moans as he began unbuttoning her flannel shirt.

"Two hours, indeed," she gasped. "Well, the tree has to settle anyhow …"

* * *

True to his word, Charles didn't set foot near Elsie's place after he left Monday afternoon. Daisy came home Monday night, and Charles had asked Elsie to be sure not to drop in unexpectedly, as Daisy was working on a Christmas gift for her. Elsie was touched that Daisy would think to make her anything, and had quietly agreed.

She spent Tuesday working around the farm instead. Tommy came by and helped her to secure the fence for winter. He'd finished painting it just before the snow had fallen, thank goodness, but the heavy snows expected that year meant that a good deal would be plowed up against the posts, and so Elsie had wanted to brace them a bit before having to deal with it.

"Some people came by the house yesterday," he confided in her as they were working. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"What kind of people?" Elsie asked, not meeting his eyes as she screwed a support pole into the fence post.

"Child services people," he answered.

She did meet his eyes, then, and was surprised to find only curiosity in them, with no trace of anger or betrayal.

"And what did they say?"

"They asked about my father, about whether or not he was abusing us," he answered bluntly. "They wanted to talk to _him,_ but he's gone now, so … well, they got us instead."

"And what did your mother tell them?" Elsie was pretty sure she knew, but didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"She said 'not anymore,' and that he was gone," he answered. "And they said if it starts up again they'd be back."

 _Well,_ thought Elsie, _there's that._ She knew full well what "we'll be back" meant – if they could corroborate any charges that the school or anyone else made against the elder Thomas Barrow, they'd take Tommy from his home and place him in emergency foster care. She also knew what 'not anymore' meant; Tommy's father had sailed out, not _moved_ out, but Mrs. Barrow hadn't made that distinction particularly clear.

Elsie had known that was how it would go down when she placed the call, of course. Being a school nurse meant that Elsie was a mandated reporter in cases such as these, and if it hadn't been her then Edith would have called herself. But they'd been down this road with the Barrows before, and Mr. Barrow was many things ... but stupid wasn't one of them. He knew his wife feared being alone, without the income he provided, and that she'd lie to protect him. And Elsie knew that abuse was so very hard to prove sometimes. A wife who denies that anything ever happened, children whose bruises are healed and no longer visible … all sorts of things contributed to authorities sometimes deciding that their time was being wasted.

"Well, then," she said aloud, and they shared a look that spoke volumes:

 _I know it was you._

 _You know I'd do it again to protect you._

 _I know._

* * *

Christmas Eve was sunny and blustery, and Daisy arrived at the farm for her eleven o'clock appointment. Elsie usually didn't schedule anything during Christmas week, but as Daisy hadn't been for a while she and Anna had made the exception.

The difference in Daisy's demeanor, however, was remarkable. In the four days since Elsie had seen her at the wedding, the girl seemed to have simply _blossomed._ She was happy, giddy, and excited for Christmas.

"Marigold gave me this," Daisy whispered to Elsie, holding up an enormous, chrome-plated, iron key. "She said she and her Mama found it, and it's for kids whose families don't have chimneys for Santa Claus to come down. No fireplace," she added, and Elsie understood.

 _Brilliant – good on you, Edith,_ she thought.

"I see. And what are you to do with it?"

"We are supposed to tie it to the door handle, and Santa will find it and use his magic to make it work in our door," Daisy told her, eyes wide with wonder.

"Ah," Elsie said, nodding. "How wonderful – what a thoughtful thing for them to get for you." She reached out rubbed Daisy's shoulder as they walked toward the barn.

"Someone's missed you," Elsie said lovingly, and she handed Daisy some peppermints for Scarlett. "These are her Christmas treat – not too many, but a couple will be fine. She _loves_ them."

Daisy palmed one in her mittened hand and held it up for Scarlett, who snuffled and gobbled it up, then whinnied playfully as she shook her head. She was clearly delighted with the sensation of the mint, and Daisy laughed at her reaction. The two mints that followed were quickly dispensed with, and Elsie fed a couple to Star as well.

"It's quite windy today," Elsie said. "I think she could use an excellent brushing down, but first … perhaps you could help Scarlett to open her gift?"

Daisy's eyes widened. "Her gift?" she whispered.

"Oh, yes – it just showed up here this morning. Anna found it on the bench," she said, nodding toward the bench and watching as Daisy's head whipped around and spotted the large package.

"Do I open it with Anna?" she asked softly, and Elsie nodded.

"Yes, she'll help you – it seems quite _heavy_ for some reason," Elsie added, pretending to be puzzled. "There's one for Star, too."

Daisy was nodding her understanding as Anna came into the barn.

"Hey Daisy – Merry Christmas!" She approached the little girl and gave her a little package. "This is to put under your tree, alright?"

Daisy smiled and nodded her thanks, and then headed over to the large packages on the bench. She looked at the enormous tags on each, and selected the package with Scarlett's name on it. She noticed no other name on the tag … just a picture of a Santa.

"Go on, then," Anna encouraged her, and Daisy peeled the paper away, breathing in an audible gasp as she revealed a lovely coat for Scarlett. It was pink with purple designs, and Daisy loved it instantly.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Anna exclaimed.

"What is it?" Elsie's happy voice called, and she walked over to peer over Anna's shoulder. "Oh, my, that is lovely!"

"She needed a new coat," Anna confirmed, "and this is the perfect one!"

"I wonder how he knew," Elsie mused, watching Daisy out of the corner of her eye.

Daisy pulled on Elsie's sleeve, then, and Elsie bent down to listen.

" _Elves,"_ Daisy whispered, and Elsie nodded.

"I think so, love," she said, and Daisy beamed.

 _The wonder of Christmas,_ Anna thought, watching them both. _For children, certainly … and perhaps for some adults as well._

* * *

Elsie parked her truck three spots down from Charles's car and headed into the church. The candlelit atmosphere always took her breath away – it was something they only did on Christmas Eve and, while the church was lowly lit by the overhead lights at the moment, it would be a candlelit "Silent Night" to which the congregation would be singing at the close of the service itself.

She spotted the Carsons talking to the Carlisles, and so she stayed back a bit in the vestibule, chatting with Beryl and Bill. But Charles spotted her, excused himself and Daisy, and headed over to her.

"Happy Christmas Eve," he said, bending to kiss her briefly on the lips.

"And to you," Elsie replied, holding out her arm so that Daisy could come in and give her a short hug. Elsie took a moment to assess Daisy's reaction to the kiss, but it seemed that, so far, everything was fine.

The prelude music sounded and they found seats in the middle section of pews. Charles always sat on the end, Elsie noted, so that he had room in the aisle for his long legs. With Daisy between them, they settled in and Elsie opened the program. She gasped when she spotted Daisy's name on the list of participants.

 _Surely she's not reading,_ Elsie thought. But she pointed to Daisy's name and showed the girl, who nodded and agreed that yes, she was participating in the service.

Elsie breathed deeply, cleansing her mind in order to be completely present in the service itself. It was her favorite part of Christmas, besides the time spent with Becky, and the music was festive and bright. The minister would alternate between reading bits of the Bible Christmas story and carols and hymns that helped to tell the tale. When they reached the Musical Interlude that was printed in the order of worship, Daisy stood and leaned over to Elsie.

"Merry Christmas, Elsie," she whispered, and she kissed her on the cheek before exiting the pew.

"What?" Elsie asked, stunned and confused. She looked at Charles, who handed her a card.

"Open it," he whispered.

Elsie's brow furrowed, and her mind registered Daisy's soft footsteps as her shoes clicked up the aisle toward the altar. She removed the card from its unsealed envelope and opened it, her eyes blurring as she read the simple words:

 _Merry Christmas, Elsie. Papa told me this song was special to you. It is my present for you. Love, Daisy_

She looked at Charles, and a bit of their conversation from the other night few through her mind.

" _So, what's_ _ **your**_ _favorite Christmas song?"_

" _You'll laugh," Elsie had said._

" _I will not," he insisted. "Tell me."_

" _It's 'Greensleeves.'"_

" _Why is that funny?"_

 _"Well, some people feel the words have hidden meanings, some that are not quite ... well, appropriate. I like it best when it's just instrumental, though. Becky and I used to dance around the kitchen to it. Our Mam had the most lovely voice, and she'd hum the tune while she cooked our Christmas dinner."_

" _It's a lovely memory," he'd said, reaching out to hold her hand. "I did expect something with words, but that's a much nicer answer."_

Elsie gasped. "You didn't," she whispered to him, her eyes filling with tears.

"I may have," he allowed, putting his arm around her as Daisy settled herself on the piano bench. "But only because she asked. She wanted to do something for you, love. I hope you enjoy it."

Just then, Daisy's small fingers touched the keys, and Elsie was instantly eleven years old again, dancing around in the small kitchen of her family's farm in Scotland, reliving fond memories of Christmases past – the only times when there was peace in her family.

Charles was entranced, both by the song his daughter had dutifully practiced these past two days and by the woman seated beside him. They'd not be spending the night together, but it was no matter: he couldn't imagine a more magical Christmas what he was experiencing at that very moment.

"Merry Christmas, Elsie," he whispered, leaning over to place a kiss to her head.

Elsie couldn't speak. As Daisy played out the last notes of the song, Elsie just nodded and squeezed his hand. When Charles got out of the pew to let Daisy back in, Elsie followed him. She crouched down on one knee, and Daisy practically skipped back down the aisle in her lovely Christmas dress. Elsie held her arms out, and Daisy flew into her embrace, returning it forcefully.

"That's the best Christmas present I've ever received, Daisy," she murmured in the girl's ear. "Thank you so very much."

"Merry Christmas," Daisy whispered, and placed a kiss to Elsie's cheek.

"Merry Christmas, darling."

* * *

 **And a Merry Christmas to all of you! A little review would be the best gift of all. The next chapter will pick up around New Year's. :) xx**


	17. New Year's Eve

**A/N: Fan fiction's website is being a pain tonight, so hopefully this goes okay and lets me reply to your reviews. Of course, guest reviews don't even have that option, so if you review as a GUEST (even if you type in your name) please consider creating an account so that I can reply individually. Fan fiction doesn't actually give me your personal address, it filters through the website itself. But some of you (calling out Susie here, among others) reply religiously and I'd love to chat!**

 **That being said, it's almost New Year's Eve for real, so here's the NYE chapter. Lots of stuff happening here, some feels ... and reappearances of favorite and not-so-favorite characters.  
**

 **The song at the end is on my Spotify. :) Just look me up (username: ChelsieSouloftheAbbey and playlist: After the Fall) - I put up different playlists for all my music fics.**

 **Do let me know what you think! I wish you all a SAFE and HAPPY New Year!**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, December 30, 2014**_

"Beryl, I'm sorry, but I just don't know yet," Elsie said. "I'm putting you on speaker now, so don't shout, please." She laid her phone down on the counter and donned her oven mitts, then opened the oven.

"What did you make? I can hear that creaky oven door all the way over here."

Elsie rolled her eyes and withheld a groan. "It's stuffed shells," she said, pulling the casserole dish out and laying it on the trivets she'd set out.

"Big dinner for one," Beryl hinted.

"You don't know how many I made," Elsie volleyed. "It could just be four shells."

"Right. Okay, Missy, be that way. But we _will_ see you all tomorrow?"

"Not promising anything, Beryl. Please, just … leave it, alright?"

Elsie picked the phone back up and turned off the speaker, and caught her friend's deep sigh.

"Why? Elsie, love, talk to me … what's the matter?"

Elsie blew her bangs off of her forehead in frustration. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Nothing. Maybe _that's_ the problem."

"I'm sorry?" Beryl chuckled exasperatedly. "Here you've got this gorgeous, kind man who fawns over your every move, with a beautiful daughter who made it clear last week in front of a packed church – which was half the town or more, mind you – that _she_ adores you, and you think this is all indicative of some sort of _problem?_ Don't go borrowing trouble, Elsie. It's not like you, and it doesn't suit you."

"I know, and Charles and I have been over it all – well, mostly," she amended quickly, "and we're comfortable with being together. It's just that we're taking it slowly, sort of … for Daisy's sake. She doesn't need any stress right now and, despite how happy she's claimed to be about it all, she's not really seen us _together_ much, you know? I don't want to push ahead and then have her resent me for it. Her mother's only been gone four months."

"Ah, _there_ it is," Beryl answered.

"There _what_ is?"

"Your reservations – they're not about _him,_ they're about _her."_

"Of course they're about her!"

Beryl counted to three, biting her tongue, before she spoke.

"Elsie Hughes, you are my best friend in the world, and I'm going to tell you this out of love."

Elsie rolled her eyes again. "Here we go …" she muttered.

"Yes, _here we go._ You cannot accept that you are deserving of some happiness, can you? Just let it _go,_ girl! This family didn't just walk into your life for no reason, Elsie. You are meant to be together, whether you choose to accept that or not. But I've seen them with you – _both_ of them – and I'm telling you now, you'd be a fool not to grab on to _all_ that happiness."

"But Daisy has come so far, Beryl. I just …" She bit down on her lip furiously, attempting not to cry. "I just … I can't bear the thought of her changing her mind about me," she finished in a shaky whisper.

"I know, but you need to have faith in her. If she's learned anything in her short life, it's _resilience._ And from what I gather, she'd done fairly well with the fact that Charles and his late wife were separated and about to be divorced, and that was _well_ before Alice died and they set foot in Misty Cove."

"Wait – how do you know that?"

Beryl heaved a deep sigh. "I wouldn't tell another soul, and wasn't even going to mention it to _you,_ but you're beating yourself up over nothing. That girl really cares a great deal for you, Elsie. Her father said as much to Bill."

Elsie was stunned. "I know she likes me, but … wait, how much time _has_ Charles been spending with Bill?" She could almost hear Beryl's smile over the phone.

"Every Wednesday lunch since they met," Beryl answered happily, "and I'm grateful for it. Misty Cove is a fabulous place to live, but the men are almost all the same, aren't they? Bill is thrilled to have someone with an intellectual background to sit and chew the fat with, I don't mind saying."

"I don't doubt that," Elsie allowed. Bill Mason was perhaps one of the smartest men she'd ever met, a quality he kept hidden beneath the quiet persona he showed to the public. His innate understanding of human nature was one of Elsie's favorite qualities about the man, and was what had made him such a wonderful match for Beryl, who could be the kindest woman on the planet but who was often quick to judge and sharp of tongue. Bill's calm demeanor balanced that out beautifully, and Elsie could see now how he and Charles would undoubtedly be good friends if given the chance.

"In any event," Beryl said, "please talk to Charles. Come to the party together – not as a _family,_ if you don't want to think of it that way –"

"Because we _aren't,"_ Elsie interrupted.

"I know," Beryl answered patiently. "But don't be afraid to be … well, _something._ Daisy certainly isn't suffering, that I can tell you for sure. By the way," she added, "I've been meaning to tell you – Santa visiting the barn? _Absolutely brilliant."_

Elsie laughed. "Thank you. I do remember a few tricks from when Becky and I were lasses, you know."

"Aww, how is darling Becky this week? I'd forgotten you were planning to visit yesterday. Has she recovered from all the excitement of Christmas?"

"I think so," Elsie replied. "The party at the home was really exciting, and she's got a new friend that she's watching out for, and I think it helped to have her focused on something other than the fact that I wasn't there on the day itself. She was reading the book again when I showed up, you know," she added, referring to the illustrated version of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_ that Beryl and Bill had given her. "I think she's gotten through it five times now, although I realize it's not a difficult read. Thank you so much for that."

"Well," Beryl said softly, "we know how she loves the classics. It must be hard for her, being fully able to function and yet not being allowed to leave the place. She needs to keep busy." Becky was a voracious reader, and Beryl and Bill always tried to find something new to add to her collection at Christmastime.

Elsie smiled and nodded, even though Beryl couldn't see her. "I know, but it's really the best place for her. She's not had any outbursts in months now, and she really likes her new doctor. She truly loves _you_ both, you know – and William and Ivy, too. Do bring them along next time you come with me, if you can."

"I shall. Elsie … have you told her yet? About Charles?"

"I have, sort of. I mentioned that I'd met someone, and that we were dating. I think that's about all she needs to know for now. She seemed alright with the idea, but I didn't want to push my luck – for obvious reasons."

"Good. I'm glad she at least knows. Take that slowly, but don't wait too long."

"I won't."

"Alright," Beryl said. "I'll leave you to your dinner. But talk to Charles about tomorrow night and let me know, alright? William and Ivy know Daisy from school and even though she's a bit younger, they seem to like her very much. Have you heard from Edith?"

"I have. They're happy to be back, and I believe they're planning to go."

"Well, then, now you have no excuse. Come tomorrow night - I expect to see your cute little feet moving frantically on my restaurant-turned-dance floor."

"Beryl …" Elsie warned.

"I know, I know! Alright, off with you."

Elsie smiled. "I love you, you daft woman."

Just then, Elsie's doorbell rang and Max let out a bark.

"Ha! I _knew_ it wasn't dinner for one!" Beryl cackled gleefully. "And I love you, too … it's why I'm pushing you, you know."

"I do know, and I'm grateful to you for it. Talk soon." She hung up the phone just as she pulled open the door.

"Hi," Charles said, leaning down to place a lingering peck to her lips, with Daisy pushing past them to kneel down and pat Max.

"Hi. Come on in," Elsie smiled.

"Dinner smells delicious!" Daisy commented. "I'm starving!"

* * *

They were sitting down in the sun room by the fire instead of in the dining room, and Daisy was looking outside at the horses from the neighbors' property frolicking in the light snowfall. She giggled softly, but her attention was drawn back to the adults when Elsie started speaking.

"So," Elsie said, placing her napkin beside her now-empty plate, "Beryl wants us to discuss the New Year's Eve party at the restaurant."

"Alright … what about it? We're going, aren't we?" Charles asked, looking at Daisy, who nodded.

"Well, I wasn't sure if you were, actually," Elsie hedged, fiddling with the stem of her wineglass.

Charles immediately understood her hesitation, and reached his hand out to still her fidgeting.

"I assumed we would pick you up around eight, then head over together."

Elsie raised her gaze to his, then looked over at Daisy, who nodded once again.

"You've discussed this between yourselves?"

"We have," he reassured her. "Marigold will be there, too, from what I understand. And Beryl and Bill's two, and a few other children, I'm sure."

"Yes, well …" Elsie said. "Alright then … together."

Charles squeezed her hand, then stood and started clearing the dishes. Elsie began to protest, but he shushed her.

"Don't – stay and finish your wine, I'm only going to soak them in your sink, alright?"

Elsie nodded and sat back, still a bit uneasy about having someone else doing chores in her home.

"Elsie?" Daisy ventured softly. "May I ask you something?"

Elsie turned her head and looked at Daisy – _really_ looked at her. The girl was clearly struggling with something internal, and Elsie was suddenly terrified of what it might be, her old insecurities creeping back in once again.

She nibbled her lip and caught herself, running her tongue over it before finally answering.

"Of course, Daisy. What is it?"

Daisy blushed, and started twisting her fingers in her lap.

"Do you love Papa? I mean … not like you love your friends, but really _love_ him?"

Elsie's mouth opened, but she couldn't manage to make any sound some out. She closed it again, then tried once again to speak. She managed a soft sigh, and then a barely audible - but very honest - whisper.

"Yes, Daisy. Very much, actually."

"Hmm," Daisy mused, her brow furrowed.

Elsie wasn't sure what to make of this strange conversation. "Were you worried that I didn't?" she ventured.

Daisy shook her head, a silent _No._

 _Alright,_ Elsie thought, now thoroughly confused.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to go the party with us," Daisy whispered. "Is it because of me?"

 _Ah._

Elsie took a minute to formulate an answer.

"Yes and no," she finally said.

Daisy's head flew up, and Elsie calmed her fears quickly.

"I'm sorry, that was confusing," she chuckled, and Daisy nodded warily. "It's just that I do care for you _both_ so very much, Daisy. But I promised you that I am not trying to take the place of your mother, and I want you to remember that _._ I just … well, I don't want to do _anything_ that would _ever_ make you feel uncomfortable. Does that make sense? And if I ever _do,_ then I need you to tell me, or tell your Papa, or even Miss Baxter if you prefer. Is that fair?"

"Yes," Daisy whispered. "But do you think … well …"

Charles came back into the room at that point, effectively cutting her off.

"Those are soaking," he announced, moving behind Elsie and massaging her shoulders gently. She sighed and he felt her almost melt underneath his hands, and the domesticity of the scene was not lost on him. He was so _comfortable_ with her, and it was both surprising and soothing to realize that.

"Ladies, what do you say? Movie?"

Daisy looked up at him strangely, almost frustrated, and he wondered if he'd interrupted something.

"Did I come in at a bad time?" he asked. "I feel that I've missed something."

Elsie reached up to pat his hand and turned to face him.

"You did, actually," she said with a half-smile. "But I think it's a conversation to finish at a later time anyhow, perhaps."

Charles looked suspiciously at Daisy. "Daisy … what's going on?"

But Daisy just shook her head. Charles could see something was weighing heavily on her mind, though.

"Elsie, what if we leave you to take care of the dishes, and Daisy and I can bring Max for a walk?" he suggested.

Max's ears pricked up at 'walk,' his favorite word (right after 'ride' and 'treat'), and Elsie laughed.

"You're in for it now, you know. But it's freezing out, and dark unless you stick to the main road. Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he answered, reaching down to kiss her cheek. He glanced up at Daisy, but she seemed nonplussed.

 _Well, that's good,_ he thought.

"We'll just go to the end of the drive and down the road a bit, then come right back."

"Okay, then … if you insist. Thank you."

"Let's go, boy!" he said to Max, who bounded eagerly to the hook where his leash was hanging. Charles and Daisy got boots and coats on, then Daisy clipped the leash to Max's collar and they headed out, hearing Elsie humming in the kitchen as they closed the door.

They walked on for quite a while without speaking, each of them trying to work out a few thoughts in their minds.

"Papa, do you love Elsie?" Daisy asked out of the blue. She reached down and patted Max, who turned and licked some snow off of her mitten before rubbing his head against her leg.

"I think you know I do, petal," he replied softly. He had come to realize he was so in love with Elsie that he didn't know which end was up. He'd been spending an alarming amount of time recently thinking of what it would be like to have a more permanent relationship, of living together, even _marrying_ her … and his heart began to ache as Daisy questioned him, because he knew without a doubt that if she didn't approve, if it hurt her too much to have another woman sliding into what had previously been Alice's place, it would never come to pass.

"Does that upset you? I know that before you said it didn't, but that was _before."_

"No, it doesn't. I really like her, Papa. I told you."

"I know you did. But I need to be sure." He licked his lips, then put his hand out to take Max's leash from her. He put it in his right hand and then wrapped his left arm around Daisy's shoulders, pulling her into a hug as Max waited patiently for them to start walking again.

"I love her so much that I'd like for us to think about being a proper family one day," he admitted, "but not if that makes you upset or uncomfortable." Charles almost cringed as he awaited Daisy's response to that admission, the thing he hadn't planned on telling her for another couple of months but which had just slipped out on a gust of warm, foggy breath into the icy air.

"I miss Mummy," she said quietly, and she teared up and wrapped her arms around him more tightly. "I miss her all the time. But she didn't love you like that. If she did, she wouldn't have left."

Charles let out a deep sigh and willed himself to remain strong amidst his daughter's clearly fragile feelings. He had to remind himself that she was so much younger biologically than she sometimes seemed when they were speaking.

"She did, once," he said. "And she _always_ loved _you_ so very much, you know that." He gave Max's leash a tug, and they began walking slowly again.

Daisy sniffled and nodded. "I know."

"I miss your Mum, too," he admitted. "I knew her over half my life. But, sometimes, it's possible to find someone to love again."

Daisy nodded. "Like Edith did," she said sagely. "She still loves Marigold's Papa, and she misses him, but she loves Bertie, too."

Charles wasn't sure what to make of that. It was spot-on, yet totally unexpected.

"Daisy," he ventured, "have you discussed this with Marigold? I mean, are you _talking_ to her?"

Daisy looked up at him and nodded, a shy smile about her lips. "Only the last night I was there," she said. "Marigold was talking about Bertie, and how much she really loves him. He's so very kind, and funny, and he makes them happy."

"I see," Charles replied, nodding slowly as he reevaluated once again his daughter's incredible perceptive nature. "Yes, they're going to be a lovely family."

Daisy nodded. "She told me that Bertie had a talk with her. He wanted to make sure Marigold wanted him as her new Papa."

"And she did, didn't she?" Charles asked.

"Oh, yes, she did," Daisy answered.

"Well," he ventured as they turned and began walking back to Elsie's house, "that's good, then." _What in the world is she getting at?_

"Mm," Daisy hummed softly.

They walked on for a minute or two, and then Charles tried once more to get to the heart of the issue that Daisy seemed to be mulling over.

"Daisy, why did you ask me about Elsie? I can tell something is bothering you, but I don't know what it is unless you tell me, petal."

Daisy took a deep breath. "Elsie doesn't want to be my Mummy," she whispered, and a tear trailed down her cheek.

Charles stopped suddenly, jerking unintentionally on Max's leash. "What?" he whispered. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't," Daisy insisted in a wavering, whispering voice. "She told me - _twice._ She said she doesn't want to try and be my new Mummy." Daisy sniffled and wiped angrily at her face.

And suddenly it all became crystal clear to Charles, and he reached a gloved hand over and placed it behind Daisy's head, then squatted down and kissed her on the forehead.

"Oh, Daisy, she didn't mean that the way you think she did, love," he said kindly. "Not at _all._ She just doesn't want you to think she's trying to be somehow _better_ than your Mummy was. Elsie knows you loved Mummy so very much, that you always will, and she doesn't want you to think she's trying to push her out of your heart."

Daisy looked up in horror. "But I don't think that! Not at all! But … well, it's so nice to have Elsie with us. She's funny, and kind. She lets me help with her farm, and doesn't make me talk about things that I don't want to talk about. It's like … I dunno, like she really cares about how I feel."

"She does," Charles replied, "so very much. And I think that, someday, if we _all_ want it, we might have a chance to be a proper family. And what Elsie means when she says that about Mummy is that it would be a _different_ family. It might be hard for you to see us together, Daisy, and you may have days when you don't like it, when you might be upset with Elsie simply because she's not your Mum. And she doesn't want that to upset you. Does that make sense?"

He saw the understanding dawn in his darling girl's big, brown eyes. "Ohh," Daisy said. "That's not what I thought she meant," she said sheepishly.

"No," he chuckled, "I gather that, now." He paused, unsure of whether or not to ask the burning question in his mind.

"What is it, Papa?"

He looked her straight in the eyes.

"If, _someday,_ you were to have a chance to have a new Mummy – a _different_ one – do you think you'd like it to be someone like Elsie?"

Daisy saw the look in his eyes, and knew he was afraid of her answer. But Charles hadn't counted on one very important thing: things in children's lives are often much, much clearer than they appear to adults. Daisy knew she and her Papa loved Elsie, and that Elsie seemed to love them right back. And, really, wasn't that what being a family was all about?

She nodded, and placed a kiss to his frigid forehead.

"Yes."

* * *

They returned to the house and Charles bent to brush as much snow as he could off of Max's fur before they went inside. They'd found a stick somewhere along the way and Max and Daisy had played an excellent game of fetch, ending with Max tumbling into a snowbank that wasn't quite as "solid" as it seemed.

"And just what have you two done to my dog?" Elsie teased, hands on her hips, as she spotted them.

"We played fetch," Charles admitted sheepishly. "I tried to clean him off as best I could …"

"I'm kidding, Charles," she laughed, kissing him sweetly on the lips. "Oh! You _are_ freezing! Come sit by the fire, both of you! I've made some cocoa – I'll go and get it."

She headed into the kitchen to fetch the tray, lost in thoughts of how New Year's Eve would work. They could go together, certainly, and then Elsie presumed she'd head home … alone. She shook her head as she realized how _lonely_ that would feel after the wedding weekend, and how she just had to be patient.

Elsie was startled out of her thoughts by Daisy, who sneaked up on her from behind and wrapped her waist in a hug.

"What's this?" Elsie exclaimed, looking down at the young girl. She brushed her hand over Daisy's head, wiping a few droplets of water as she did so.

But Daisy just shook her head and kept hugging, so Elsie placed her hand on Daisy's back and gave her a little return squeeze.

"Alright, then," she whispered, looking up as Charles silently appeared in the doorway.

 _She loves you,_ he mouthed.

 _I love her,_ Elsie returned silently, with a smile spreading across her face as she niggled her bottom lip yet again.

Charles just nodded his reply, watching as his two favorite girls crossed yet another threshold in the development of their new …

 _Family_.

* * *

 _ **Wednesday, December 31**_

The party was in full swing when Elsie, Charles, and Daisy arrived. Charles popped open the back of his car and took out the box full of desserts that Elsie had packed up for the party.

"Beryl has all the appetizers and munchie stuff being catered, and Bill will man the bar, but everyone else in town brings some extra stuff to contribute. No one shows up empty-handed," she'd explained, "since most of the town stops by at one point or another."

"Elsie!" Phyllis's voice rang across the room, and she rushed over to wrap her friend in a hug. "How's your vacation going?"

"Pretty well," Elsie admitted, and she blushed as Phyllis gave her a knowing smile.

"Mine, too," she winked, linking her arm through Elsie's. "And how are the Carsons this evening?"

"Very well, Miss Baxter, thank you," Charles nodded. "Els, what can I get for you?"

"Wine would be lovely, thanks."

He headed off to do that at as Marigold rushed over.

"Daisy! Come on, Bertie's set up some games for us in the back."

Daisy looked up at Elsie in question, and Elsie nodded.

"Go ahead, I'll tell your Papa where to find you."

Daisy smiled and ran off, and Elsie turned to find Phyllis staring at her oddly.

"What?"

Phyllis hesitated, then shook her head a bit and smiled softly. "It's just … well, she's certainly comfortable with _you,_ isn't she?"

Elsie sighed. "I do hope so," she admitted.

"Things going that well?" Phyllis ventured. "It's alright if you don't want to say. It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you this …"

"Confused?" Elsie asked wryly. "Indecisive? Out of place?"

"No," Phyllis answered with another smile. _"Smitten."_

Elsie raised an eyebrow at her just as a glass of Chardonnay appeared at her elbow.

"Oh! Thank you," she said to Charles.

"Did I miss something important?" he asked. "It looked rather serious over here."

"Oh, I was just telling Elsie how wonderful she looks," Phyllis fibbed. "That scarf is lovely, Elsie."

"Thank you," she answered with a smile in Charles's direction. "It was a very thoughtful gift from someone special this Christmas."

Phyllis returned the smile. "Alright, I'm off to find Joseph before he discovers that there's a huge bowl of rum punch at the bar. See you around," she said, kissing Elsie on the cheek.

"Why do I get the feeling she was lying to me?" Charles asked.

"Because you're too smart for your own good," she replied, putting her hand on his waist and giving him a chaste kiss to the chin. "Let's walk around and visit a bit, hm?"

Charles nodded, not sure of whether or not Elsie meant that as a _couple,_ but she wrapped her arm around his back, underneath his jacket, and hooked her thumb slightly over the waistband of his trousers, and he figured that was answer enough.

They meandered over to the bar to chat with Bill and Beryl for a bit, and Elsie slipped into the kitchen a couple of times to assist the caterers when they had questions and Beryl was too busy to get in there. But, overall, the party was quite fun and relaxed. Tables had been pushed to the edges of the restaurant, and a makeshift dance floor was taking up most of the middle. As Marigold had indicated, Bertie had turned the servers' station into a game and coloring area for the children, and Elsie spied something that looked very much like apple bobbing being set up in a corner.

As the night drew on, the DJ's choice of music moved from what Charles referred to as 'those horrid club sounds' to things a bit more suited to the older half of the crowd, working in a few tunes by Elton John, Sinatra, Streisand, and more. Charles headed up to put in a request, and was told they'd try to squeeze it in. When he returned to Elsie's side she raised an eyebrow at him in question, but he just smirked and shook his head at her, and then reveled as she tossed her head back and laughed loudly at his secrecy.

"I'll be back in a moment," Elsie murmured a few minutes later, laying a hand on his forearm and squeezing lightly. He nodded, and she headed over to where the kids were playing, making sure Daisy was still having fun and noting that a few other children from the school were there, including Jimmy and, to her surprise, Tommy Barrow.

"Hello, gentlemen. I didn't expect to see you here," she said, smiling at them.

Jimmy was about to give her some flip reply, she could see it on his face, but Tommy beat him to the punch.

"It's a good party, Ms. Hughes," he said. "Jimmy's mum convinced mine to come along, so here we are. Will I see you next week?" he asked, ignoring the strange look he got from Jimmy.

"You bet," she answered, smiling at them both before making her way to the ladies' room.

"What was that about?" Jimmy enquired.

"I'm helping out on her farm," Tommy answered, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's nice when you get to know her. Hey, look," he added, looking across the room to see their mothers sucking down what seemed like their umpteenth drinks. "C'mon, let's see how they are," he added quietly. Jimmy saw where he was looking and cringed.

"Yeah."

* * *

Elsie flushed the toilet and readjusted her dress before stepping out of the stall.

"Well, well, fancy meeting you here, _Elsie."_

"Mary … Happy New Year." She reached for the soap and washed her hands, meeting the younger woman's steely gaze in the mirror as she scrubbed them clean.

"Seems like it will be for you," Mary quipped.

Elsie raised her eyebrows, but refused to give into the bait.

"Got him wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

Elsie smiled and shook her head as she rinsed her hands and shut off the faucet. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're getting at, Mary."

"Right. Rich Englishman arrives in Misty Cove, moves in next door, and you just can't keep away, can you? You just sneaked your way into his life and he was none the wiser until it was too late."

"I don't think so, Mary. Your uncle _has_ got a mind of his own, in case you never noticed."

Mary continued on as if Elsie hadn't even spoken. "A tall, dark, handsome widower, with a gorgeous little daughter to boot. Isn't that just _convenient … for … you."_

"Excuse me?" Elsie fumed. "Where in the hell do _you_ get off –"

"You know _exactly_ what I mean," Mary spat, cutting her off.

"I can't believe you!" Elsie gasped, stunned and yet, in the back of her mind, maybe not that surprised at all.

"He let Auntie Alice walk all over him, never said a word about how she was treating him, treating _Daisy, ignoring_ them both. Dear Auntie Alice and all those 'late-night meetings' she had," she added spitefully. "He could have been free of her years ago if he hadn't been too blind to see it."

Elsie stood a bit straighter, suddenly seeing Mary Carlisle clearly for the first time.

"Like _you,_ you mean, don't you, Mary?" she said quietly. "You could be free of that, too, you know."

"Oh, how _dare_ you," Mary almost growled.

"How dare _you,_ you spoiled little _bitch!"_ Elsie flung back. "If you have a problem with me, some kind of actual _concern_ that goes further than making sure you're not the only one in your family who gets to walk around in some sad cloud of loneliness, then take it up with your uncle. If not, then at least leave me the hell alone. I can't abide sneakiness, Mary, and I sure as shit don't have to take it from _you."_

She crumpled up the towel that she'd been mindlessly shredding, tossed it in the bin, and walked out the door, leaving a stunned Mary Carlisle in her wake.

"Elsie?" Charles said, rushing to her side as she exited the restroom corridor. He could see and feel the fury steaming off of her. "What's the matter?"

Just then, Mary walked out the door … and straight into them both. He saw Elsie bite furiously on her lip, to the point he thought she'd draw blood, and he reached out and took her hand, attempting to soothe her by rubbing his thumb over the back of it slowly.

"Uncle Charlie!" Mary said, a bit too brightly ... and he just _knew._

"Mary?" he asked. He adored Mary, goodness knew he saw kindness and fragility inside of her that few people did, but he had been forced to acknowledge on more than one occasion over the years that she could be intentionally cruel at times, too.

"What?" she answered, staring him down. "Elsie and I just had a little chat. We're fine now, aren't we, Els?"

"Don't _ever_ call me that," Elsie seethed. "And _I'm_ perfectly fine, thank you."

Charles could see the electricity between them as if it were a true live wire. And then his ear picked up on a change in the tempo of the music being played, and he smiled as he recognized the approaching end of the current song.

"Let's dance," he said suddenly to Elsie, smiling softly at her. He turned to Mary and added, "You'll excuse us, please … I'm off to dance with my lovely lady, and I have been assured by the DJ that my request is next."

Elsie let him lead her away, mustering all the self-control she had not to turn and shoot one last glance at his niece.

"I don't know what you see in that one, I have to say," she murmured as he swept her into his arms.

"She's not fond of you, I can see that," he chuckled. "But I wouldn't take it personally. Mary's not fond of most people."

"Except you," Elsie whispered. "She believes I'm not good enough for you – which could very well be true, I admit. I did tell her that you're a big boy and can make your own decisions … well, maybe not in so many words," she admitted shyly.

"Well, thank you for that," he said, "but I can assure you, you are _more_ than good enough for me."

Just then, the song changed.

"You requested _this_ song?" she asked with a smile. "My, my … you're full of surprises, Mr. Carson. I expected Sinatra, or something along those lines, I'll admit."

"I'm glad I've managed to surprise you, Ms. Hughes," he answered, a seductive rumble in his voice almost melting her instantly.

"Mm," Elsie agreed, closing her eyes and allowing the love she felt for this wonderful man to just envelop her completely.

He tipped up her chin and placed a lingering kiss to her lips, then drew her closer to his chest as he hummed along with the music, noting after a few long seconds that she finally relaxed against him.

 _Look at this face,_

 _I know the years are showing._

 _Look at this life_

 _I still don't know where it's going._

 _I don't know much but I know I love you.  
_

 _That may be all I need to know._

She raised her head again and traced her thumb along the creases by his eye, allowing her own eyes to drink in his features and her fingertips to graze through the hair at his temple as the music continued. She was vaguely aware that they were barely dancing anymore, but she didn't really care. There were enough other couples on the dance floor that it didn't matter, no one would really be watching them.

 _And when I feel you near me,_

 _Sometimes I see so clearly._

 _The only truth I'll never know is me and you._

 _Look at this man so blessed with inspiration._

 _Look at this soul still searching for salvation._

 _I don't know much but I know I love you.  
_

 _That may be all I need to know._

* * *

Mary watched her Uncle Charlie from her spot at the bar, seeing how completely and utterly in love he truly appeared to be. She wanted to simultaneously thank and throttle Elsie Hughes, and she knew exactly why: the woman, barely knowing Mary from a hole in the wall, had identified in a few short sentences everything that was wrong with Mary's life. Not even her family had picked up on that.

 _No,_ she amended, _Granny knows … and a lot of good that's doing me with her across the goddamn ocean._

"One more," she said to Bill, who wisely kept his mouth shut as he poured her another shot of Scotch. She downed it in one, nodded her thanks, and pushed herself away from the bar and toward the front door.

As she was reaching into her handbag for her car keys, she felt a gentle hand upon her arm.

"May I?" Tom Branson asked, holding out his hand, and she closed her eyes and nodded.

"Why the hell not?" she answered tiredly, handing him her keys. "You know which one is mine."

"How could I forget?" he asked with a smirk. "It's the only Jag in Misty Cove. I'll pull it up to the door … just be a moment."

* * *

"Five minutes to go!" Beryl shouted into the microphone. "Everyone find a glass of champagne – there's ginger ale for the littles – and someone to kiss!" she added cheekily.

Daisy came running over to Charles and hugged him, yawning widely and rubbing at her eyes with her fists, the late hour having totally caught up with her.

"I'll get some drinks," Elsie said. She returned with two flutes of champagne in one hand and one plastic flute of ginger ale and passed them around.

"A toast," Charles said, squatting down to Daisy's level and indicating for Elsie to do the same.

"Oh, it's quieter down here," Elsie joked to Daisy. "No wonder you like it so much," she added, and Daisy giggled.

"Here's to a wonderful New Year for us all," he said, looking specifically at Daisy. "To good changes, to new friends, and to many wonderful years here in Misty Cove."

"And family," Daisy added, touching her glass to his.

"Yes," he said softly, glancing to Elsie and clinking his flute against hers. "That, too."

She blushed, but Charles didn't notice as he was already trying to stand back up for the countdown.

"…Five! … Four! … Three! … Two! … One! … HAPPY NEW YEAR!" everyone shouted, and William and Ivy pulled out two confetti cannons, shooting them off simultaneously as an explosion of festive, colored paper rained down on everyone.

Charles bent down for a hug and a kiss from Daisy, then swept Elsie into his side with one arm.

"Happy New Year, Charles," she said quietly, her shy smile and brilliant eyes taking his breath away.

"Happy New Year," he replied, leaning over to kiss her and briefly allowing his tongue to graze over hers.

Elsie reveled in the warmth his kiss provided and, after a few seconds, she felt Daisy's arms wrap around her waist in a hug as she heard the crowd begin to sing a muddled rendition of _Auld Lang Syne_.

 _It really_ _ **doesn't**_ _get any better than this,_ she thought.

* * *

 **A/N #2: I should mention that I am NOT a Tom/Mary shipper, and that is in NO way where that little tidbit is headed. Figured I'd nip that in the bud ... but figured that, given the history of the characters involved, Mary shouldn't take off in a drunken stupor while driving her own car. But if I was going to let ANY of them drive her Jaguar, it was Tom. xx _  
_**


	18. The Hughes Sisters

**A/N: Okay. Full M rating on this one. I may have to change the rating on the story, no? Except ... eh. I blame lsgrimm91 for this, as well as OJBF3, who told me it would be a travesty for Elsie to just get dropped off after this party.**

 **Love to brenna-louise who is my flash-fast proofreader.**

 **Um ... please enjoy! And drop me a review, to which I shall reply via PM until this website gets its shit together.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Jan 1, 2015 12:01 a.m. - The Cheeky Devil**_

"Mama, please? Just tonight?" Marigold begged, yawning widely.

Edith looked at Bertie, who smiled and shrugged and said, "It's your decision, my dear. I don't mind at all."

With a glance to the threesome still embracing on the dance floor, she sighed and gave in.

"Alright, but if Uncle Charlie says no, you're not to argue."

"Yes!" Marigold shouted. She tore off across the restaurant and tapped Daisy on the shoulder.

Daisy turned around and smiled when she saw Marigold's face. She turned back to Charles and tugged at his sleeve.

"Papa, Auntie Edith said yes – may I _please_ go home with them tonight?"

"What's this?" Elsie asked, startled.

Charles couldn't even look at Elsie, not if he was going to keep his face impassive, and so he focused solely on Daisy. "That's fine, petal. Your bag is in the car from last time, I think. You'll need clothes for tomorrow, though …"

Daisy shook her head. "No, I won't. Auntie Cora washed them all – the ones in my bag are clean."

Elsie, meanwhile, looked up and saw Edith's smile from across the room. She excused herself with a pat to Charles's arm and headed over to see her.

"Edith? Did you _plan_ this? Is this some sort of set-up … or _pity?"_ she asked, blushing furiously.

"Elsie, don't argue. I know how it is, and how precious little time you get _alone_ with a little one about. We'll keep them busy for most of tomorrow, and you can tell Uncle Charlie she'll be home after dinnertime."

Elsie opened her mouth, but shut it before she could say anything. She smirked and shook her head at her boss - her dear friend - and squeezed her hand in thanks before returning to Charles and Daisy.

"Well, it looks like we've been manipulated rather effectively, Mr. Carson, and by two children no less. Why am I not surprised?"

"Why, indeed?" he chuckled. Then he turned back to Daisy.

"You'll behave, of course. And _sleep?"_

Daisy nodded quickly, then hugged them both goodbye. She took Marigold's hand and they ran back to Edith and Bertie, with Elsie sending a quick prayer for the younger couple that the girls would be able to fall asleep quickly and not keep them up all night.

"Well, Ms. Hughes? Shall we be off?" Charles murmured in her ear, his voice and breath sending a shiver down her spine.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied seductively. "Remind me to buy Edith a very, _very_ nice New Year's gift."

He laughed. "I shall … but not in the next eighteen hours."

He retrieved their coats and helped Elsie into hers, purposely dragging his fingertips up her neck as he straightened her collar. She returned the favor by "fixing" his scarf, which she claimed was twisted under his collar.

"Your place?" he asked breathlessly, and she nodded.

"Yes, if you don't mind. But stop by yours first so that you aren't wearing that home tomorrow," she said, indicating his suit, and he nodded.

"I'm sorry," he asked on the ride to his house, "but I didn't even think to ask if you already had plans for tomorrow."

"Don't worry. I do, for the afternoon ... but, erm, I was hoping you'd join me."

"Absolutely. Where are we heading?"

"You'll see," she said softly, laying her head on his shoulder.

"A woman of mystery," he murmured, earning him a playful swat on the hand.

It was snowing when Charles finally pulled up to Elsie's front door, where he let her out before parking the car by the barn. By the time he made it into the house, hastily-packed overnight bag in hand, she had already reloaded the wood on the fire and fetched two snifters of brandy. He let the dog out and turned to see Elsie before him, raising an eyebrow at the glass she held out.

"I was cold," she explained, her eyes raking over his snow-covered jacket and his flushed cheeks, which she knew would be frigid if she touched them. "Although now I'm a bit warmer, remembering that you're here," she teased.

Charles laughed. "Is that so?" he asked as he took off his coat and slipped his boots from his feet, setting them onto the boot tray by the door. He loosened his tie and approached Elsie, placing a very chaste kiss to her lips that belied his true desire.

"Thank you," he said as she handed him the snifter.

"My pleasure." She raised an eyebrow at him. "So, here we are. Now, might I suggest we move away from my front door?" She giggled, and he smiled at the sound of it, light and twinkling, somehow a much-needed levity in the highly-charged atmosphere in which they currently found themselves.

"Why not?"

She let Max in and pointed to his bed. He obeyed willingly, quite happy to tuck in for the night in his bed by the hearth.

Elsie took Charles by the hand, placing a warm kiss to the delicate spot between his thumb and forefinger, sucking on the skin there for a second before relinquishing her hold. He gasped softly when the tip of her tongue tickled the delicate skin near his palm, and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

"The effect you have on me, Elsie … my god," he murmured, somehow making his way to the couch and sitting in the corner, sideways. He beckoned for her to sit, his arm outstretched along the back of the seat. As soon as she tucked herself in, her back resting somewhat against his chest, he pulled her in tighter and placed a kiss to her temple.

"We're very lucky people, you know, having Edith for a loved one," she said. "Although you didn't seem _surprised."_

He chuckled. "We _are_ lucky at that. And no, I was not surprised; Daisy asked me about it before we picked you up, but I wasn't making any promises until Marigold actually _asked._ "

"Then you and Edith have very smart girls - and I _am_ glad you're here."

"Me, too," he replied, resting his cheek on her head.

They sat quietly for a moment, before Elsie ventured, "I find I'm not terribly tired, although I should be. But do you mind if we just sit here for a bit?"

"Of course not," he murmured into her hair. "I'm not just some randy teenager, Elsie. I do believe I possess a modicum of self-control."

"Ha! I'm glad you do," she answered, squeezing his thigh. "I think I just want some time to cuddle up here and … talk … if you don't mind?"

"Why would I mind?" He shifted slightly so that she could tuck her legs up onto the couch, and pulled her closer.

The fire in the stove crackled and popped, and the orange flames were as mesmerizing as they were warming. They sipped their brandy slowly, refilling their glasses once, and talked for over an hour – about his work and hers, about the farm and her dreams for its future, about how he'd been considering when to retire, his plans for the business he still had in England up in the air. After a while, though, the conversation tapered off as each of them felt warm, more relaxed, and, quite simply, _loved._

"I could stay like this forever," he whispered.

"Mmm," she hummed. "Me, too." After a moment, she added, "Do you know, I am having a hard time remembering what it was like when I _didn't_ know you?"

"I _do_ know, as it so happens, and I find that surprising given that we don't see each other every day."

"True – or maybe that's why? 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' and all that."

"Perhaps, although I wish that were _not_ the case. Somehow I don't think I'd mind so much if it weren't," he said softly, reaching his hand up to gently caress her arm.

"Charles," she warned, "you know it's too soon for anything like that. Daisy …"

"I know," he reassured her. "But … just so that we're clear … I _wouldn't_ mind."

"Mmm, nor would I," she replied, surprising him.

"Truly?"

"Truly." She took the last sip of her brandy and then turned to kiss him. She'd meant it to be a quick kiss, but he recaptured her mouth before she could back away.

 _And, really, Elsie, do you want to? No …_

Elsie extended her arm in the general vicinity of her coffee table and deposited her snifter on it, hoping that in her temporary distraction she'd not misjudged the table's location. She heard nothing fall, though, and figured she was fine.

Reaching her hands up into his hair, she opened her mouth and heard a faint moan, unsure really from which of them the sound had come – _perhaps both of us,_ she reckoned. She shifted her position on the couch and tilted her head, pulling him closer as she grazed her nails on his scalp.

Charles broke away first, breathlessly, and looked at her with wonder.

"Um … oh, my …" he swallowed. "I can honestly say no one else has ever kissed me quite like you do," he added, and she cocked her head.

"Well, then, Mr. Carson … I'll have to do more of it in the future." She reached over and took his glass – almost empty now – and finished it off.

"That was _mine,"_ he protested weakly, shaking his head at how she rolled her tongue around the 'r' in his name.

"Too late," she answered, reaching her head around to nip his ear lobe. He yelped, and she laughed softly.

"I see how it is," he said. "Two can play at that game, _Ms. Hughes."_

Before she knew what was happening, Charles had his big hands around her waist and lifted her effortlessly from his lap, and she found herself suddenly lying on her back, with one of his hands somehow gently cradling her head. She wasn't even sure how he _managed_ that!

"How did you d- _ohhhh …"_ she breathed. "Never mind."

He began a slow exploration of her neck, then moved down to the part of her collarbone left exposed by the neckline of her dress, giving each inch of visible skin equal attention. Eventually, he made his way back to her lips, and deposited a brief kiss to her mouth before moving to kneel beside the couch, his left hand now slowly running up and down her arm as the fingers of his right hand – no longer trapped beneath her head – lazily brushed a couple of locks of hair away from her face.

"You are amazingly beautiful, you know," he whispered reverently.

Elsie opened her mouth to chastise him for such an effusive compliment, but shut it again when she saw the look in his eyes. She just shook her head almost imperceptibly, and mouthed a faint 'thank you,' then reached up and pulled his head down, cradling it on her chest and running her fingers through his hair as she once again contemplated this great bear of a man, so gentle, whose heart was clearly hers for the taking.

 _Never did I think this would_ _ **ever**_ _happen,_ was all she could think at that moment.

The clock in the hallway chimed twice, and Charles lifted his head.

"We should really not fall asleep on this couch, Elsie."

She smiled and nodded at him. "I know." She shooed him away and swung her legs down, then accepted his hand to help her get up. He didn't let go, though, merely pulled her into a drowsy embrace.

"Mmm," she hummed again. "I _do_ love having you here."

He backed away enough to look into her eyes, noticing that in the dimmed light of the room they appeared as dark as a summer's nighttime sky.

"I love being here – or anywhere, for that matter – with you. More than I ever thought possible," he replied, surprising himself with the emotion he had to swallow after uttering the words.

She bit down gently on her lip and took his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

They undressed one another slowly, reverently. It was nothing like the other nights they'd spent together, when they'd felt the rush of first-time lovemaking and passion and an overwhelming need for release. Buttons and zippers were undone slowly, with kisses being laid to bare skin and words of love being murmured and whispered, heard underneath the soft swish of fabric falling to the floor. _This is wonderful,_ Charles thought – _calm, loving._ And, he had to acknowledge, he was _exhausted._

Elsie lay on the bed, arms outstretched in silent beckoning, and Charles climbed in, pulled the quilts around them both, and lay his head gently on her chest, placing a tender kiss to the side of her breast. She stroked his back lightly with her fingers, and he wrapped his arm around her waist and held on tightly.

"I've never felt so completely, utterly _loved,_ " he whispered, overcome with the power of his own emotions and feeling rather foolish about it.

She looked down at him, wiping his tears with her fingertips and placing a gentle kiss to his head.

"It's quite possible that you never _were,"_ she whispered back.

And, with that, they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Hours later, Elsie's eyes opened. All was still silent outside, and she raised her head enough to verify that it was still snowing, seeing the flakes coming down hard, illuminated by the light outside the barn.

 _Early … everyone still tucked in dreaming, keeping warm._

She moved gently, trying not to wake Charles, whose deep breathing told Elsie he was still fast asleep. Every once in a while he'd let out a little hum of sorts, not quite talking in his sleep, but clearly dreaming … or at least sleeping quite contentedly.

She, however, was wide awake.

 _Hm._

She rolled onto her side, her hands curled up under her chin, and just watched him sleep. His face was so peaceful and calm, looking years younger than he truly was. She knew he'd be fifty in three weeks, but in his sleep the laugh lines on his face were smoothed out, only the crinkles in the corners of his eyes still showing. The stubble of his beard was starting to come in, but not much, given that he'd shaved immediately before the party. She reached out and ran a fingertip across it gently, jumping back a bit when he twitched in his sleep.

She inched closer to him and gently placed her head next to his shoulder, kissing it softly and smiling when he murmured in his sleep and turned in her direction, wrapping an arm around her. She snuggled in, her forehead almost touching his chin, and began making little circles on his chest with her fingers.

"Mmm, that feels nice," he said groggily into her hair.

"Good," she whispered, kissing his shoulder again.

"What time is it?"

"Too early for you to worry about it, trust me."

He hummed again at that, then moved a bit and scooted up onto the pillow so that Elsie could place her head on his chest, enabling him to wrap both arms loosely around her. After a minute, he realized that the fingertips caressing his chest were slowly moving downward.

She heard his sharp intake of breath and she smiled, but it didn't stop her hand from wandering.

"Oh," she gasped, reaching her destination and discovering that they were clearly both on the same page already, the back of her hand brushing up against him unexpectedly.

"You didn't think you were the only one who had early morning plans, did you?" he rumbled.

"I guess I was a step behind," she said, gliding her hands over him ever-so-gently and appreciating the hissing sound he made between his teeth.

Charles felt himself jerk, and moved her hand aside.

"Wait …" he said, lifting himself up and shifting them both again so that he was above her.

"I see – more awake now, are we?" she teased, running her fingernails from his arms to his hips and back again, repeatedly.

"Indeed." He leaned in and kissed her sweetly, coaxing her lips apart with his own as she loosely embraced him, still managing to keep a small amount of space between then.

When he broke away, he moved one hand slowly to her abdomen, a questioning look in his eyes. She nodded, and he maneuvered it further down, caressing her gently until she writhed beneath him.

"Charlie," she managed, frantically grabbing at his sides and pulling him closer and shaking her head. "That's enough … come here … I need you _closer,_ mo ghràidh."

 _Is that_ _ **Gaelic?**_ he thought wildly.

"Like this?" he asked, nestling himself between her legs, but still not fully joined.

" _No,"_ she growled, wrapping her legs around his buttocks and attempting to pull him in.

He resisted for just a few seconds, long enough to regain eye contact with her.

"I love you so much," he whispered, and he lessened his resistance, enabling her to draw him inside of her in one agonizingly slow moment.

She moaned as he slid in, and then tightened the grip of her legs to keep him from moving.

"Please, just … stay like this, just for a moment," she managed, wrapping her arms around him as well and holding him to her as though she were clinging on for dear life.

He understood – he _felt_ what she was feeling, a most powerful thing that he'd never be able to adequately put into words.

"Still not close enough, though," he said, and she shook her head as tears appeared in the corners of her eyes.

"No, it's not," she whispered, both elated and frustrated at how she was feeling.

She loosened her hold just a little, and he slowly – _slowly –_ began to move again. There was no sense of rushing – like undressing each other the night before, each felt as if time had slowed down, as if nothing existed outside of themselves. Charles placed kisses wherever he could reach – slow, luxurious kisses, relishing in the faint traces of her perfume from the night before, the slightly salty taste of her skin after sleeping. One of his hands ghosted across her chest, eliciting low moans from somewhere deep inside of her. The only thought he had that made any sense at all was, _I can't ever let you go._

Their slow movements had Elsie floating on a gossamer thread, every nerve in her body fully attuned to his movements, kisses, and caresses, her ears picking up on even the most minute sounds that he emitted. She felt intensely present as she never had before when making love – not with Charles and certainly never with Joe – and yet, at the same time, she could have sworn she was floating away from it all. She felt the familiar, welcome pressure start to build, and managed to hold herself back until she could feel that he was close.

"Closer, Charlie," she whispered, reaching down with her hands and pulling him in even deeper. _"Closer."_

He complied, fearful of hurting her but unable to deny her. Seconds later he cried out her name, and she let herself go.

"Yes, my love, mo chridhe … with me …" she whispered, pulling him impossibly further in as he cried out her name in the stillness of the room.

When he was able to think clearly again, Charles tried to move, but Elsie maintained her grip.

"No, not yet, please," she said softly. "Just let me hold you right here."

"Did I hurt you?" he whispered, kissing the hair at her temple.

"Never … you couldn't." She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes half-closed.

"I couldn't bear it if I ever did," he said, twisting a lock of her hair around his finger and kissing her sweetly on the forehead.

Minutes later, when Charles began to feel uncomfortable, he slowly slid down onto the bed by her side, rolling her gently on her side and spooning her into his embrace once more.

"Sleep, my love," he whispered in her ear.

"Don't leave," she murmured, already half asleep.

"Never," he answered.

* * *

Once again, Charles woke up alone in Elsie's bed. He felt extremely well-rested, despite the small amount of sleep he knew they'd actually gotten. He allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts for a moment, then lifted himself up onto his elbows and peered out the window, seeing Elsie moving about outside the barn as she tended to the animals. He noted that she'd shoveled a quick path to the barn at some point when he was sleeping and, at the present moment, was bringing a bucket of feed over to the chicken coop. She turned the corner and walked out of his line of vision, and he sat back against the pillows and rubbed his hands over his face.

 _She's incredible,_ he thought. _Absolutely incredible._

He forced himself up and donned his shorts, then padded through to the front hall to retrieve his overnight bag. He bent down to scratch Max's ears, noting that his fur was damp.

"Did someone have fun outside this morning, hm?" he asked, and smiled as Max wagged his tail in agreement.

Charles took another peek outside, but Elsie was nowhere to be found. He brought his bag into the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Ten minutes later he was dressed and in the kitchen, scouring through her fridge in search of breakfast supplies. He located two potatoes in the dish on the counter, which he diced with the quarter of an onion he found in the fridge. There were fresh eggs, of course, along with some spinach and a block of cheese. He found the grater behind the second cabinet he opened, pleased once again at how well-organized her kitchen was. Just as he dropped a pat of butter into the pan for the omelets, he heard Elsie moving about in the basement.

When she came through door, Elsie gasped at the sight of her kitchen.

"What's this?" she asked, a brilliant smile on her face. Charles turned to see her … in her robe, of all things … and found himself flustered.

"It's … breakfast," he said slowly. "You're undressed."

"Not quite," she amended, moving toward him for a hug and a good morning kiss. "But close. It's easier to take off the snow-covered stuff downstairs and pop it right into the washer. I always do that," she explained, and he nodded.

"Yes, that makes sense. Tea?" he asked, pointing to the fresh pot he'd just set out. "Piping hot, which I gather from your frigid face you could use about now."

She nodded her thanks and sat at the counter, watching him as he deftly flipped the first of the omelets.

"I rather like you taking control in my kitchen, with me coming in and having breakfast being cooked for me," she told him. "I could get used to this."

His eyes flew up and met hers, and he raised an eyebrow. "Well, you never know."

She met him eyebrow for eyebrow. "Indeed …"

Charles plated the omelets and home fries and then refilled their tea. He sat next to her, and they chatted about trivial things as they ate. After a while, Charles remembered something from earlier.

"Where are we heading today?" he asked. "You never said."

Elsie chewed thoughtfully and then sipped on the last of her tea. "Well, I usually don't go during the week, but as it's the holiday … I'm heading to see my sister, Becky. I was rather hoping to bring you, to introduce you."

Charles's eyes widened. "I see," he said, and he saw Elsie's face fall a bit.

"Unless you'd rather not," she murmured, looking down at her plate and moving her potatoes about. "It is somewhat of a big thing, I realize, but …" she trailed off.

Charles reached over and took her hand, stilling its movements. "No, it's not that I don't _want_ to, but are you sure? Does she even know about me … about _us?"_

Elsie nodded. "She does – I broached the subject at Christmastime and she seemed fairly happy. But she doesn't do well with the unknown, and I think it would be easier for her to have a face, a personality, to put with the thought."

He nodded. "That makes sense. And I'd love to go with you." He squeezed her hand, and Elsie beamed at him. "On one condition," he added.

"What's that?"

"We take my car."

She laughed, and nodded her agreement. "Fine – I can live with that."

"Good. Now _I'm_ going to clean up while _you_ go warm up in the shower. Do you need me to do anything else?"

She shook her head at him. "You are marvelous, do you know that? I'm not used to being waited on, Charles. Just _relax_ \- peruse the bookshelves, cuddle the dog. I'll be ready in half an hour."

"A woman who can be ready quickly – no frills." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "This just keeps getting better and better."

Her laughter followed him into the kitchen, and she reached out to swat his bottom as she passed by.

* * *

The car ride took about half an hour, during which time Elsie texted Becky to let her know a guest would be arriving with her.

 _1:14 p.m._

 _Hello lovely – on the way. Bringing Charles to meet you._

 _1:15 p.m._

 _Can't wait. Nervous tho._

 _1:16 p.m._

 _So's he. No worries, darling – just talk books._

 _1:18 p.m._

 _Beryl likes him._

 _1:19 p.m._

 _She does. Love you sweetie – see you in a bit._

 _1:21 p.m._

 _K_

"Everything alright?" Charles asked, reaching over to rest his hand on Elsie's knee.

"Fine. She's nervous about meeting you. She's awkward around new people."

"So am I," he chuckled. "This booming voice tends to throw them off a bit, I think … come across as somewhat of a bully. Don't mean to, of course."

She squeezed his hand. "I warned her about the voice," she said. "And Beryl has given you a glowing recommendation, which carries a lot of weight with my darling sis. No worries, love."

Charles followed Elise's directions turn for turn and pulled up to an enormous Victorian house.

"This isn't what I expected at all. It's good that you were with me, or I'd have driven right past."

"You thought it would be like a nursing home, didn't you?"

He nodded.

"Most people do," she said, "but it's quite nice here. More community house than nursing home. They've got physicians on staff 'round the clock, but it's not got an antiseptic feeling or anything like that. The residents are monitored all the time, but have free rein for the most part to roam around and interact with one another. Several gather in the parlour to play games and such. There are Bingo nights, cooking lessons, and each resident has times when they're on the chart to help with cleaning chores. Becky spends a lot of time in her room, though, reading. And she has a new companion, a woman named Martha." She smiled at Charles, giving him a look he couldn't quite read. "You'll find her … interesting, I think. Both of them," she amended, "but particularly Martha."

"Alright," he said slowly, getting out of the car. "I'm trusting you."

Elsie stood on her tiptoes before him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I've met your family, love … time for you to meet mine." She took his hand and, together, they headed in.

"Elsie!" the woman at the desk called out. "How lovely to see you again so soon!"

"Hi, Mags. Yes, I promised Becky I'd stop by again before heading back to school. This is Charles Carson …" she introduced, stopping awkwardly as she realized she wasn't quite sure how to introduce him. 'Boyfriend' seemed ridiculous, 'partner' annoyed her … definitely nothing else was appropriate.

"Pleased to meet you," Mags said, shaking his hand. "Elsie here's a real peach – one of the best."

"That she is," Charles agreed, smiling at the woman before him. He took in her grey hair, wrapped up tightly in a bun, and put her age around seventy. But the sparkle in her eyes spoke of mischief and a good deal of caring, and he surmised in those few seconds that she must be incredibly effective at running the place.

"She knows we were on the way – mind if we head on up?" Elsie asked, signing the visitors' log.

"Not at all. Have fun!" Mags said, giving Elsie's arm a little squeeze.

"Will do."

Charles and Elsie headed upstairs silently, hand in hand. He was grateful for her touch, soothing his nerves that were becoming edgier with every step. He couldn't believe how terrified he was to meet Becky. It hadn't dawned on him until Elsie said it, but Becky was her family – her _only_ family – and it was vitally important to him that they get along well. Charles had no proper siblings of his own, and while Robert's family had always taken care of him and had stood in for his family in every sense of the word, it wasn't the same. This woman would _look_ like Elsie, perhaps have her mannerisms – her accent, surely. It unnerved him.

Elsie stopped him outside the door, then turned to face him.

"I love you, you daft man. And so will she. Stop worrying." She kissed his hand and turned to open the door.

"Becky?" she called out, and Charles heard a squeal come from the far corner of the room.

"Ellie! Ach, so good to see you, love," Becky exclaimed, pulling Elsie into a huge hug.

Charles passed through the doorway, feeling a bit out of place. But Elsie broke out of her sister's embrace and pulled him further in, introducing them.

"It's lovely to meet you," Becky said shyly.

"Likewise," Charles replied. He was well aware that he was standing there, mouth agape, but couldn't quite manage anything.

"Charlie?" Elsie asked quietly.

"It's uncanny," he said quietly, trying to control his loud voice but also blown away by the resemblance between the sisters. "You could be twins if not for your being short."

"Pardon me?" Elsie huffed, and Becky snorted out a laugh.

"You tell her, Charles!" she exclaimed. "Ach, she _is_ short!"

Charles looked at Elsie and laughed, ignoring her pout. "You _are,_ Els. And your accent is softer, but otherwise it's like you _are_ twins."

"Yes, yes," Elsie said, motioning for him to sit on the sofa opposite Becky's bed. "Enough of that, now."

He sat, properly chastised, as Elsie handed a parcel to Becky.

"Orange creams?" Becky asked hopefully.

"Of course," Elsie replied, sitting next to Charles on the sofa.

"You didn't tell me there were orange creams traveling with us today," he teased.

"Well, no, as I wanted them to actually _make it_ to my sister."

Becky watched the two of them with interest. She liked Charles immediately, and could see why Elsie seemed to like him. He was kind, but clearly observant and smart. Joe had been a nice man, but he and Elsie fought a lot and Becky didn't like remembering that.

The afternoon passed quickly, with Becky taking Elsie's suggestion and asking Charles about his taste in books.

"British and American, actually – many favorites," he answered thoughtfully. "I prefer socio-economic commentary, above all – Dickens and the like," he added.

Becky quizzed him on his favorite Dickens novels, having read most of them multiple times herself, and Elsie mostly just sat and observed them. She was so proud of them both, knowing how nervous they'd been and being thankful that they'd found a common ground. But most of all, she thought, she was impressed at how Charles was treating her baby sister like an _adult_ and not a _child._ Becky was such a strange mixture of both – intelligent in an almost savant-like way, particularly about literature – but she acted like a child in many others.

"Elsie _hates_ Dickens," Becky confided, winking in her big sister's direction. "We used to argue about it all the time."

"Really?" Charles asked, looking at Elsie. "Well, I'll have to work on that."

"Fat chance!" Elsie answered as a timid knock sounded on the door.

"Come on in, Martha!" Becky called, standing up and practically running to the door.

Martha – a woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties; tall, red-haired, and dressed sensibly – entered, and Becky approached her immediately and put her arm around her, drawing her into the room.

"Martha, you remember Elsie?" she said quietly, and Martha nodded.

"Hello, dear, how lovely to see you again," Elsie said, her voice as soft as Becky's.

"And this is Charles, Martha. He's Elsie's boyfriend. He's very kind … Why don't you come and join us?"

Martha shook her head as Charles almost whispered, "Very nice to meet you, Martha." He'd chosen to remain sitting so as not to frighten the woman, who was clearly quite shy around them.

Elsie heard his gasp at what came next, and smiled understandingly at him … for Martha had pulled on Becky's sweater and Becky leaned down, close enough so that her friend could whisper something in her ear.

"Oh," he murmured, "now I see."

"Yes," she replied under her breath. "Exactly."

"Martha wants to know if you're staying for dinner," Becky conveyed.

"Not tonight, we need to fetch my daughter," Charles said, managing to keep his voice down to a soft timbre.

"Your daughter?" Becky asked, shooting Elsie a surprised look. "You never said …"

"No, I didn't, did I? Well, yes. Charles has a beautiful daughter named Daisy," Elsie explained haltingly, "who is much like Martha here. She's rather quiet, but bursting with energy and spark on the inside."

Martha smiled gratefully at Elsie and nodded, a gesture that Elsie returned.

"Will I ever be allowed to ... meet her?" Becky asked timidly, and Charles's heart broke as he realized the woman must fear that, because of her nature, Charles wouldn't want Daisy near her. He was sure in that instant that Elsie had been wrong to withhold Daisy's existence from her, but it would be conversation for another time … perhaps.

"Of course," he answered, before Elsie could formulate a reply. "I'd be happy to bring her along next time. Daisy loves to read as well, and I think you'll get along well."

"Good, then that's settled," Becky declared.

They sat another half hour and visited, after which time Elsie looked at the clock and realized they needed to head out. She stood and gave Becky an enormous hug, and Becky surprised both her sister and Charles by heading over to hug him as well.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Charles. Take care of her!"

Charles smiled. "Oh, don't you worry – I plan to."

Elsie looked at them both and shook her head, a smile playing about her lips. "As if I need taking care of …" she muttered, causing them both to laugh.

"Right," Becky said, shooting Charles a smile. "Good luck to you, Charlie ol' boy," she added. "She's a right cracker, my Ellie."

"Don't I know it," he replied, squeezing Elsie's hand.

Not Becky nor Martha missed the look shared between them – one full of teasing and humor, but also of an endless, spirited _love._

 _Yes!_ Becky thought. _Finally._


	19. A Day at the Movies

**A/N: Today's chapter is centered around the theme of "kindness." Enjoy!**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

 _ **"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." -Plato**_

 _ **Thursday, January 1, 2015**_

Charles sighed as he pulled into Elsie's driveway, already dreading having to leave her even though he _was_ looking forward to seeing Daisy and hearing about her day.

"I know," Elsie said quietly, already sensing his frustration, and she squeezed his hand. "But you two should spend the end of her vacation doing things that she would want to do with _you,_ without me."

"Yes, I know, and she and I _do_ have plans for tomorrow and Saturday … it's just that I'm growing less and less fond of that _'without Elsie'_ bit," he replied, smiling ruefully as he parked the car and shut it off.

Elsie leaned back and slouched a bit in her seat. "This _is_ rather lovely, isn't it?" she asked, tracing the vein on the back of his hand with her fingertip. "I'll admit, I'd not expected it to be quite so … easy, I suppose. Especially with Becky. It's funny, she and I were so dependent on one another when we lived together, but we aren't like that anymore. She's found her way and I've found mine. I'm sure you'll be under my feet on occasion, should we ever get to that point, and I'm sure to get on your nerves, too."

He laughed, the twinkle in his eye warming her instantly.

"I shall take that as a warning, then." He sighed. "I think things would be _wonderful_ if we were together more often, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I'd expect a few snags along the way - it'd be unrealistic _not_ to, really." He turned sideways in his seat, his temple on the headrest. "But we _did_ decide not to push into anything more permanent too quickly. You may have to keep reminding me of that."

"I shall. I know we've said it before, but I'll say it again: Daisy's come so far, Charles, in such a short period of time. I just think we need to wait – give her more time to get used to it."

"And, deep down, I agree. So … for now, getting together when we can manage, as a threesome _and,_ God willing, occasionally as a twosome?"

She nodded and he leaned forward to kiss her, his fingers threading through her hair, his lips lingering until things became decidedly too heated for in-the-car activities.

"Charles, we can't," she murmured, reading his mind. "There's not enough time."

He sat back resignedly. "I know. Listen … what _are_ your plans for the weekend? Perhaps we could all get to a movie on Sunday?"

"That could work. I think that _Night at the Museum_ movie is still out somewhere – would she like that? Not much else out for kids right now, I don't think."

"She'd love it – and I think I might enjoy it, too. We did see the first one, if I recall."

"Alright. I've got Tommy coming by in the morning, but we'll be done by about three. Would you want to come by then?"

"Tommy?"

"The boy who's been helping me out around here – surely I've mentioned? He's been wonderful! He's probably the reason the horses haven't escaped that old fence by now, and he's definitely the reason it's painted. Daisy knows him from school, I'm sure."

"She hasn't mentioned anyone by that name but, then again, she rarely discusses the other students."

"True. I wonder if that will change now," Elsie mused. "Marigold is quite well-liked among her peers. I should think that would help Daisy to make some friends."

"Mr. Molesley will help as well. From what I gather, he groups the children quite frequently to do assignments, but he changes the groups a lot. It must help them socially, getting used to other children and all. Much like real life, actually … tossed in with people you've never met, a job to do. It's a good way to introduce them to reality."

"Look at you getting philosophical on me," she teased, swatting his arm playfully. "C'mon, let's get in. You need your things, and I need some hot tea."

"Alright."

 _ **Sunday, January 4**_

"Tommy! Come on in, let's get you warmed up!" Elsie called from the front step.

Tommy waved to acknowledge that he'd heard her. He finished clearing the walk and brought the shovel over to the barn, stopping to pat each horse on the nose and give them a little 'hello' before heading in.

"All set, Ms. Hughes," he said happily, clearly pleased with himself. He'd spent the early afternoon breaking down snow piles up and down the driveway and shoveling the mess out of the way. It was promising to be an awful winter, and the stuff built up quickly. Elsie could barely manage, so she had asked Tommy to help.

"You're a lifesaver, Tommy, you really are." She beamed at him as she placed a steaming mug of cocoa in front of him, and watched as he added a fistful of marshmallows to it.

"Don't be shy, take a cookie, too," she encouraged him after a moment, pushing the plate of still-warm chocolate chip cookies towards him.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "So, next week …?"

"I'm not sure. Most of the things I need done now will have to wait until spring …" She saw his face fall.

"... but when it snows again I will gladly have you over to shovel."

"That would be fine," he said.

Elsie studied him carefully as she sipped her own drink. He looked so much healthier lately, despite the fact that winter had set in and it had seemed that half the school had been sick between Thanksgiving and Christmas. She knew that on Tommy's part it had less to do with illness (or lack thereof) and more to do with the fact that his earnings had added to his mother's funds to put better food on the table. She also suspected he was sleeping better at night, the product of a bit of hard work mixed with the absence of his father, who would be away another month yet, perhaps more. Rumor had spread through some of the men (which Elsie heard by way of Bill Mason) that Mr. Barrow had taken up with another woman in a coastal town in North Carolina, where they were currently fishing. It certainly accounted for how little money he was sending home despite being midway through the winter season, and neither Elsie nor anyone else was particularly surprised to hear it. She found herself wishing he'd just stay away permanently, and his wife could get on with a life not run by fear. It would undoubtedly be difficult, Elsie knew; with assistance, though, she suspected that Tommy and his mother could make a go of it.

"Ms. Hughes?" he enquired, pulling her back from her thoughts. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Tommy. Just daydreaming." She reached over and patted his hand, then gathered the cookie plate and headed back to the kitchen with it … dropping one more off on Tommy's napkin on her way by.

"Thanks!" he exclaimed, just as a knock sounded on the front door, followed by the sound of someone coming in.

"Els? Sorry we're early, I hope it's not too- oh, hello there," Charles said, clearly not expecting Tommy to be sitting at Elsie's dining room table.

"Charles?" Elsie called, coming back out of the kitchen. "But what time- ..." She glanced at the clock. "Oh, my goodness, it's already after three! I'm sorry, we ran a bit late and I lost track of time."

Daisy had been playing with Max outside and had missed everything Elsie had just said. She came in and kicked off her boots, then sent a clear, "Hi, Elsie!" down the hall before half-jogging into the dining room … and screeching to a horrified halt as she saw Tommy sitting at the table.

"Ah, so you _do_ speak," he said appraisingly, a note of surprise in his voice.

"Tommy!" Elsie admonished. "That was rather rude."

"Sorry … but I didn't know, did I? How would I, really – she doesn't speak at school," he mumbled, sounding suitably chastised.

"No, she doesn't. Not _yet,_ " Charles amended, smiling at his girl and moving over to where Tommy sat. He extended his hand toward the boy and Tommy stood, reaching out tentatively to shake it.

"Firm grip you've got there, young man," Charles praised. "Charles Carson – I'm Daisy's father, as I'm sure you've guessed by now."

"Tommy Barrow," the boy replied, somewhat at a loss for words all of a sudden. He'd gathered in a few seconds that Mr. Carson and Daisy were both welcome and wanted in Ms. Hughes's home, that they were clearly close enough to all be on a first-name basis and to walk in unannounced, and that they'd clearly had plans that Ms. Hughes was now late for. He suddenly felt out of place, and wished he weren't there at all.

"I hear you've been doing quite a lot of work around here – good for you, Tommy. Ms. Hughes seems quite happy with you, from what I've heard. How old are you, exactly?" Charles asked him.

Tommy blushed furiously, and Elsie was taken aback by that. She knew he was in sixth grade, and wondered for the first time if he'd stayed back, if he were perhaps older than his classmates and embarrassed to say.

"Tommy?" she questioned.

"I just turned twelve," he said, staring at the floor.

"Just?" Elsie asked.

"Yesterday, in fact."

"Well," she said softly, "Happy Birthday, Tommy. A bit belatedly, of course. I wish I'd known before!"

"It's no big deal, really," he replied, clearly uncomfortable.

Charles and Elsie shared a prolonged glance, and Tommy was intrigued. He looked back and forth between them for a moment, trying to make it out. _It's like they're having an entire conversation,_ he thought. He looked at Daisy, but she just rolled her eyes a bit and shook her head as if to say, _They do this all the time._

Charles nodded, and Elsie turned back to Tommy while Charles whispered in Daisy's ear. Whatever he'd said made Daisy nod enthusiastically and smile.

"What's going on?" Tommy asked, now more suspicious than embarrassed … although it wasn't a much better feeling.

"How would you like to go to the movies?" Elsie proposed. "With us - today. We're heading out there now, and probably stopping for a pizza on the way home."

"I don't think I should, Ms. Hughes. I'm not sure … Mum …"

Elsie nodded. "What if _I_ call her? Explain the situation – tell her it's for your birthday. And we'll drop you off at home after – you'd be home by eight, I'd think, as we have school tomorrow."

"You don't need to do that, Ms. Hughes. Really …" Tommy was clearly torn; Elsie could see he _wanted_ to go, but he obviously felt guilty having them take him anywhere, birthday or not.

 _In fact,_ she wondered, _perhaps the birthday bit is the issue. Did he even_ _ **do**_ _anything for this birthday?_

"You work very hard around here, from what I gather," Charles said quietly. "Why not let Ms. Hughes say thank you for that?"

Tommy was caving, Daisy could see, and he _did_ seem quite a bit nicer than she'd heard he was at school. But she knew what the kids said in the lunchroom when they thought no one was listening ... except that Daisy _was_ listening. She listened to _everything._ It was one benefit of not talking much, this time that she had to listen and to learn.

"Oh, please come," Daisy whispered.

Daisy felt Elsie's eyes on her and turned to her, shrugged, then returned the small smile and nod that Elsie gave her. _'Well done, lass,'_ Daisy could hear in her head. She knew that's what Elsie's look meant, and she was pretty proud of herself for having spoken up.

Tommy looked at each of them in turn.

"Alright, then. Why not?" he said, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Thank you very much … I think I _will_ join you, if it's alright with my Mum."

"I'll call her now," Elsie said, pulling out her phone.

The trip to the movie theatre took about twenty minutes, during which time Tommy and Daisy remained silent in the back of the car. Daisy was reading her book, and she had silently offered her iPod to Tommy, showing him a couple of games on it and motioning that he could feel free to play them.

Elsie was a bit uncomfortable showing Charles any affection in front of Tommy, but Charles understood that without her having to say. Tommy was a student, after all, and despite the 'working' relationship they had, Charles had noted that the boy still called her 'Ms. Hughes.'

They got to the cinema and headed in, Charles buying everyone's tickets before they made their way to the concession stand. Tommy chose to ignore that it wasn't Ms. Hughes who was paying for him - it was rather late to back out now, anyhow, he knew. But still ... something about that made him uncomfortable.

"Okay, so … who's up for a tub of popcorn?" Charles asked the group. Much to his amusement, only Elsie raised her hand.

"Hey, don't judge me!" she laughed. "And we _know_ I'll not be eating it all alone. None of that fake butter junk, though - the nurse has to draw the line _somewhere._ "

"Glad to hear it," Charles said wryly. "I already know Daisy wants those revolting cookie dough things. Tommy?"

The boy toed the multi-colored carpet with his shoe. "Nothing, thanks," he muttered.

"Nonsense," Elsie said. "Get the boy some peanut butter cups, Charles. And one of those blue things … Icee? Yes, that's it." She looked at Tommy and smiled warmly. "That alright with you?"

"Sure. Thank you," he answered. "Look, it was really nice of you to invite me. I feel like I'm intruding, though," he added.

Charles and Daisy were over at the counter, so Elsie pulled Tommy aside for a minute.

"You aren't intruding on anything, alright? I'd have brought you home if we didn't want you here. It's good for you to get out now and then, get lost in a movie for a bit, hm? So don't feel guilty." She reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and he finally cracked a smile.

"Whatever you say, Ms. Hughes."

"There ... that's better." She smiled warmly at him and nodded.

"Everybody all set over there?" Charles asked. Elsie turned and saw him laden with two bottles of water and two Icees in a tray, one bucket of popcorn, and three packages of candy. Daisy had her hands full of napkins, and her eyes were alight with excitement.

"We're good. I'm going to nip into the loo," Elsie said. "Daisy, do you need to go?"

Daisy thought for a second, then nodded.

"Alright, then. Tommy, how about you?" Charles asked.

"I'm all set, Mr. Carson, but thanks."

"Why don't you boys go get us some seats, and we'll find you." Elsie winked at Daisy. "Your Papa should be easy to spot in a crowded theatre, hm?" and Daisy giggled.

"Sounds like a plan," Charles agreed. Tommy reached for the drink tray, earning an appreciative nod from Charles, and they headed up the ramp to the assigned theatre.

Three minutes later, Elsie and Daisy were washing up. "Daisy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just … I just wanted to thank you. For encouraging Tommy to come with us," she said hesitantly. "Things aren't … well, they're not easy for him sometimes."

"I know," Daisy replied quietly. "Kids talk about him," she added, reaching for a paper towel.

"Do they? Because he bullies them?" she asked. _He'd better_ _ **not**_ _,_ she thought.

But Daisy shook her head. "No, not anymore," she said thoughtfully. "It's because of his parents."

"Oh?"

Daisy sighed. "Some of the boys were teasing him at lunch the other day, something about his shoes looking old. And they they said he's a … something," she said, crinkling up her nose. "I can't remember the word, but someone said it's bad and it means his Papa isn't really his Papa." Then she added in a whisper, "They said Mr. Barrow is really mean, too."

Elsie sighed deeply. "Let's go on up," she said after a moment, and held the door open for Daisy. She then double-checked the ticket for the theatre number and indicated to Daisy where they were going.

"You know, Daisy, there's a famous quote that Miss Baxter has in her office. It says, 'Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind, always.' It's true, I think. And I appreciate _your_ kindness today." She smiled, and her heart did a little flip when Daisy took her hand as they walked into the theatre.

"It's dark," Daisy whispered, clenching Elsie's fingers.

"It's alright," Elsie whispered. "I've got you."

They made it past the first bank of seats up to the middle aisle and Elsie scanned the theatre, which was much fuller than she'd expected given that the movie had been out for a couple of weeks.

She saw Tommy and Charles wave and pointed them out to Daisy, fully expecting the girl to let go of her hand and tear on up to their seats.

She didn't, though, and Charles gave Elsie the sweetest smile as they sat; the children ended up in the middle, with the adults on either side of them. Elsie took the popcorn tub from Tommy and plopped it down in Daisy's lap. Charles reached his long arm behind Tommy's chair and passed Elsie her water and Daisy's candy, letting his fingers brush hers as he did so. Elsie was touched to see that Tommy already had Daisy's drink set up in her cup holder, and had reserved some napkins for her as well.

They sat back as the movie began; halfway through it, Daisy leaned over and rested herself on Elsie's arm. She looked down at the girl and smiled softly, thinking that the day before she had to return to work was pretty sweet, indeed.

The movie ended and the theatre emptied out quickly. After about two minutes, only the Carson-Hughes-Barrow group remained … mostly because _three_ of them couldn't get their emotions in check.

"I feel like I should poke myself in the eye or something," Tommy muttered, causing Charles to laugh through his tears.

"Hey, I was _fine_ until _she_ started," he said, pointing directly at Elsie.

"I'm sentimental, I can't help it!" Elsie retorted, blowing her nose into her last napkin. "And Robin Williams …"

Everyone left Daisy alone for a moment, and the joking nature of the conversation helped her to gather herself.

"Hey, kid, you gonna be alright?" Tommy asked her softly after a minute. Daisy gulped and nodded, giving him half a smile. Tommy knew Daisy's mother had died sometime before she'd moved to Misty Cove, and he felt bad for her. Watching someone die on the big screen - regardless of whether or not it was an actual _person_ \- must be hard, he figured.

Elsie took advantage of the kids' temporary distraction to find Charles's eyes.

 _I love you,_ he mouthed, winking at her.

 _I know,_ she sent back, shaking her head. Her eyes flicked to Daisy and back and she added, _Sorry._

He shook his head, though. _Don't be._

"Alright, who's still hungry?" Elsie asked, and all three of her companions raised their hands.

"Then let's go!"

An hour and a half later they were completely stuffed full of pizza, with a box of leftovers to boot. Charles pulled the car up in front of Tommy's house. He scanned its appearance quickly in the dark, noting that no front light was on even though there _was_ a light coming from somewhere inside.

"Thanks again, Mr. Carson, Ms. Hughes. I really had fun."

"Well, then … Happy Birthday to you. And I'll see you tomorrow," Elsie said, reminding him to take the pizza box. She looked over and saw that Charles was unbuckling his seat belt to walk Tommy to the door. She reached her hand out and placed it on his, then gave him and almost imperceptible shake of the head: _No, don't._

Charles was puzzled, but obeyed nonetheless.

"Well, Tommy, it was nice to meet you," he said instead. "I do hope we see you again sometime."

"Sure thing, Mr. Carson. See you around, Daisy," he added, smiling at her as he got out of the car.

"Bye," Daisy said quietly, pulling out her book and book light for the short ride home.

Charles and Elsie watched as Tommy made his way to the front door, fetched a key from the bottom of the mailbox, and let himself in. Just before closing the door he flashed the porch light at them, a goodbye of sorts. It broke Charles's heart a little, confirmation that the light did, indeed, _work,_ but that no one had bothered to leave it on for him.

Elsie reached out and squeezed his hand, glancing back in the rear-view mirror to see that Daisy had her earbuds in and would be suitably distracted.

"We can't fix them all, you know," she said to him as he laced his fingers together with hers.

"But _we_ know how he feels, don't we?" he murmured. "Between us, we have a pretty good idea of what it's like to be Tommy Barrow."

Elsie lifted his hand to her lips and placed the gentlest of kisses on it, allowing her lips to linger for just a moment.

"We do. Thank you for today."

Charles shook his head, and Elsie noticed that he was overcome with emotion. He relinquished her hand and put the car in gear, then backed up and drove away slowly.

"My pleasure," he said once he reached the end of the driveway.

Inside the house, Tommy watched them drive away. He smiled and shook his head, thinking of the day he'd just had. He knew he was lucky to have Ms. Hughes looking out for him, and had been pleasantly surprised to have Daisy speak to him. It made him feel quite special, knowing as he did that it was a gift she bestowed on few people.

"Tommy? Is that you?" his Mum called from the living room.

"Yeah, Mum. I'm gonna shower and get to bed. Did you eat?"

"No, but I'm fine," she said.

"No, here," he said, handing her a box. "There was leftover pizza and they told me to take it home. You can have it, though, I'm stuffed."

"Nice of them," she acknowledged. "That Ms. Hughes … she's really a good person, isn't she?"

Tommy smiled, and poured a glass of water for her, setting it down by her half-empty glass of wine.

"Yeah, she's pretty okay," he said. "Oh, wait - here," he added, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the money he'd earned that day. "For last week and this week. Take it all this time - we need some groceries."

She looked at her son, growing up so fast and looking so much like his father - his _real_ father, not the one he _thought_ was his Da. She held her hand out and he took it, bending to kiss her on the cheek.

"You okay, Mum?" he asked, his head cocked in worry.

She smiled sadly at him. "Yes, sweetie, I'm fine. Head on up and take your shower. And tell Ms. Hughes I said thank you for the pizza, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," he said, already walking toward the stairs.

 _ **Please leave a little review if you feel so inclined - they keep me going!**_

 _ ***The quote I used is actually misquoted, I realize this. It's a common misquote, however, and the plaque described in Miss Baxter's office is usually how it's represented. The acccurate one (from what I gather) is the Plato, quoted at the beginning of this chapter.**_


	20. A Meeting and a Trip

**A/N: For those who don't know, MLK Jr.'s birthday (observed) is a legal holiday in most states in the US, hence the long weekend on which we're beginning.**

 **The first scene in this chapter is a student support meeting. This is a pretty common practice in public schools and involves teachers, counselors, administrators (and usually the school nurse) meeting to get updates on students who are struggling with emotional and health-related issues. Confidentiality is expected amongst teaching staff, and so it is not completely unheard of to have staff from various grade levels in on these meetings, even if they don't teach all of the students being discussed; however, in more delicate cases, only those in a "need to know" situation will be part of the discussion. You will see both here.**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise for feedback and proofing, and a shout-out to chelsie fan for helping with birthday details. :)**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, Jan 19, 2015**_

"Feels like we didn't even _have_ a long weekend," Elsie grumbled, plopping down in one of the seats at the conference table.

"I know. New Year's seems like it was _months_ ago," Phyllis said softly.

Elsie didn't miss the sparkle in the woman's eyes. "And where did _you_ spend the morning after the party?" she whispered, causing Phyllis to blush furiously.

"Elsie! Not _here,_ " she whispered back, glancing at the door. But, as no one else had arrived for the meeting yet, she added, "Not at my house. But nothing happened … well, not _that,_ anyhow. We talked and … stuff."

"All at your own pace, my dear."

As if by divine intervention, Joseph Molesley entered the room at just that very moment. He appeared his usual, quiet self, but had a smile about his face that Elsie rarely ever remembered seeing before.

"Morning, Joseph," she said. "Edith's left some treats in the corner."

"Oh, good," he sighed, heading right for the danish. "Although I must say, I don't think there's enough caffeine or sugar in this school to get through _this_ day." He refilled his travel mug with two tea bags and hot water, took two pastries from the tray, and sat a few seats down from Phyllis.

Over the next five minutes they were joined by two teachers from grade six, Sarah O'Brien, and Edith.

"Okay, everyone settled?" Edith asked, receiving nods from everyone present. "Then let's go. First up?"

"I'll go first," Joseph spoke up, pulling a report out and passing copies around the table.

"Daisy Carson. She's making remarkable progress lately, doing very well in class. She's made some friends, who are used to the way in which she communicates, and they've been pretty receptive to her methods. I did hear some of them mentioning that she talks to Marigold now and – oddly – one of the older boys?" He looked to Phyllis for clarification, and she nodded.

"Yes, Tommy Barrow." One of the sixth grade teachers raised her eyebrow at that. "We'll actually be getting to him in a bit," Phyllis added.

"Really? How interesting. Well, Sarah and I are seeing good effort, I think?" He looked pointedly at Sarah, who nodded reluctantly and sighed.

"Her scores are fine, I'll give her that, but it's very difficult to accommodate her unwillingness to speak, particularly when _my_ class requires that the children read and _discuss_ books," she said sharply. "Allowing her to write everything out is very time consuming, both for me _and_ for her. If she's begun speaking to people, then I don't see why she just can't speak to _me._ "

Elsie made a strangled-sounding attempt to not laugh at that, which went unnoticed by no one.

"Something to add, Elsie?" Sarah asked, a peculiar look on her face. "After all, it's no secret you have a soft spot for the girl."

"Sarah," Joseph admonished quietly.

"No, it's quite alright," Elsie said, smiling brightly. "Sarah is correct – it _is_ quite a time-consuming job making the types of accommodations that Daisy requires. Which is why it's _such_ a good thing for the Carsons that Daisy has a 504 plan, to be sure she's getting the _best_ classroom experience she can have." _And to be sure **you**_ _are legally bound to do your damn job,_ she added silently.

"Of course," Sarah replied, her saccharine-sweet tone not fooling anyone at the table. "I will say this: Daisy seems to be rather fond of _you,_ Elsie. How fortunate for her that you've become so … close … these past couple of months."

Edith wanted to jump in and say something, but the gentle toe-tap that Elsie gave her under the table stopped her cold. Instead, she sat back in her chair to watch this unfold, knowing Elsie could keep her cool _and_ put Sarah in her place, when warranted.

"Oh, I don't know about that, Sarah. I think it's rather fortunate for _me._ Daisy is so very sweet, which you'll discover if you actually take the time to get to know her."

But Sarah was not to be deterred. "I imagine the situation is also fortunate for her father."

Joseph gasped slightly and looked at his teammate, shaking his head slowly as if to say, _Sarah … don't._

"You were rather _intimate_ at the New Year's Eve party, now, weren't you?" Sarah continued.

Elsie pursed her lips and took a second to formulate a reply. She was acutely aware of the tension in the room, and also of the attention of the two sixth-grade teachers who, up to this moment, had likely not been aware of anything going on between Elsie and Charles as they both happened to live out of town. In the end, she decided to ignore any comment about Charles.

"As I said, it's not terribly difficult to win the girl's affection, Sarah. One merely has to pay more than a shred of attention to her to notice that she's kind, sincere, quite intelligent … and ever so perceptive of _others'_ opinions of her."

"But you don't deny that you have a _special_ relationship with her," Sarah pushed.

"I don't see what business that is of yours. It certainly has no bearing on this meeting," Elsie answered, quickly losing her patience.

"Oh, I'd say it does, Elsie," Joseph interrupted, and five sets of disbelieving eyes zoomed to look at him.

"How so?" Elsie asked, unsure she wanted to hear the answer. Joseph Molesley was almost always on her side, and he rarely challenged Sarah publicly. Elsie she wasn't sure where his train of thought was headed.

"Well, in my opinion, it improves Daisy's chance of success _and_ of overcoming her anxieties if she's more comfortable coming to school every day, doesn't it? If she feels like she has allies inside of the school, then that will produce a positive effect on her, and so your relationship with her _does_ have a bearing on our discussion – in the best way possible. If that little girl can get to school every day and find people with whom she's at ease just being herself, then bully for her, I say," Joseph added, looking intently at the report in his hand and avoiding the seething glare coming from his neighbor.

"Well said, Joseph. Alright, so we're agreed that Daisy is progressing well?" Edith asked, receiving nods from Phyllis, Elsie, Joseph and, eventually, Sarah.

"Wonderful. Grade three is otherwise moving along well?"

"Absolutely," Joseph replied.

"Alright, then, you are both free to go," Edith said, smiling. "Thank you so much for the report, Joseph, and to both of you for being here."

They got up and left, Sarah turning in the opposite direction from the one in which Joseph was heading as soon as she was free of the doorway.

"She's a piece of work, that one," muttered Mr. Levinson, one of the sixth-grade teachers.

"Up next," Edith said, ignoring the comment, "is Tommy Barrow. Elsie, would you mind closing the door, please?" she added, noting that Joseph had left it open. Elsie complied, then returned to her seat.

"Alright," Edith sighed, opening a manila file folder and glancing at the papers inside of it. "So the authorities have been in touch. Child and Family Services worked with them to investigate the report Elsie and I filed last month. After an interview with Mrs. Barrow, and given Mr. Barrow's absence from the home, they found no conclusive evidence to prove a pattern of abuse. Tommy refused to say much to any of them, he had no marks on his person that were indicative of a pattern of abuse, and his mother refused a physical examination – which is her right, given that they were there to investigate only Tommy."

Edith closed the file and tossed it into the middle of the table, blowing a frustrated sigh through her lips. "I'm at a loss, folks. We _know_ it's happening, but the man's _gone_ so often that we can't prove a damn thing," she said.

"Tommy seems different when his father's gone, that's for sure," Mr. Levinson added, nodding. "It's too bad they can't use _that_ as evidence. He's doing better in school, and he's been kinder to the other kids in class lately." He looked over at Elsie and smiled, knowing from something Tommy had written in his English journal that the boy was helping out at the farm … but unwilling to announce that to the group. Elsie smiled faintly and gave the slightest of nods, acknowledging the sentiment.

"I hope that continues regardless," Phyllis added, reaching for the file to add to the already thick volume she had for Tommy in her office. "I'd like to pull him in for some one-on-one counseling, if possible. Do you think his mother would agree this time?" she asked to the group at large. "She's declined in the past, but I think that was due to influence from Tommy's father."

"I think she might," Elsie said softly. "I'd be happy to follow up on that if you like, Edith?"

"Absolutely – thanks, Elsie. Okay, anyone else for today?" she asked.

Everyone shook their heads. Student support met weekly, and rotated through about two dozen children on a monthly basis, but Daisy and Tommy were the most frequent topics of conversation.

"Alright then, that's all, folks. Enjoy the rest of your day," Edith said, rising from her chair as everyone else followed suit. "Elsie," she added, "can you stay for a moment?"

"Sure," Elsie said, sitting back down.

Edith followed everyone to the door and then closed it behind them once they'd left. She returned to the table and sat across from Elsie, a smile on her face as she rested her forearms on the table.

"How's the party plan coming?" she said, and Elsie giggled.

"Wonderful. He has no idea _at all_ what's going on. Your Granny has been so wonderful – almost _too_ wonderful, I must say. She's very …" Elsie trailed off, not wanting to be offensive.

"Pushy? Her way or the highway? Doesn't take no for an answer?" Edith offered, and Elsie laughed.

"Yes! One or more of those. She insisted on paying for _everything,_ which is most certainly unnecessary," Elsie began, but Edith reached out and patted her friend on the hand, silencing her.

"You'll lose _that_ battle, I can assure you. Uncle Charlie is like another son to her, and she will treat him just like she treats my father. Nothing is too good for her boys."

"I know. It's nothing like the weekend I had planned, but I suppose I knew that would happen when you mentioned it to her." Elsie shot her Edith a nasty look.

"I'm sorry! She asked if there were plans, and I couldn't very well _lie!"_

"I suppose not," Elsie acknowledged. "So I'll have coverage for Thursday and Friday? No problems with the school board given that it's right before break?"

"None at all. I've got Mrs. Glenn coming in."

"Oh, excellent – she's really wonderful, and the kids love her."

"Fabulous! Do you think he suspects?" Edith asked.

"Not at all," Elsie said. "Well, I should amend that. I am positive that he thinks we're doing something to celebrate his birthday, yes. I mean, really, one doesn't turn fifty every day. But does he suspect he'll be doing it in _England?_ Not on your life!"

* * *

 ** _Sunday, February 8, 2015_ **

"You must be kidding." Charles was staring at Elsie across his dining room table, his jaw resting almost on his plate. A box similar in shape to a glove box was open on the table beside his glass, an envelope with airline tickets peeking out from the crumpled, red tissue paper. Beside him, Daisy was twittering with glee, the secret out at last. "This is some kind of prank."

"No," Elsie smiled, shaking her head. "It's not."

"It must be. Because, Elsie, this … this is _ridiculous."_

She was a bit taken aback, as the look on her face illustrated. "Um … excuse me?"

"Well, it _is!_ We cannot _possibly_ do this, Elsie! _You_ can't do this! Or Daisy – what about school? _Those,"_ he said, pointing to the tickets, "are for the Thursday before you're even _on_ break!"

He knew as soon as he was halfway through that set of statements that he was in trouble but, just in case there was any question, the fire now coming from her icy, blue eyes clarified her position.

"I'm sorry," she said in an almost-whisper that spoke much about her current emotional state, so quickly changed that, if he'd blinked, Charles may have missed it, "but when – _exactly_ – were you put in charge of my time off? Because the last time I checked, Edith was my boss, and not you.

"And for your information, Charles, _my_ plan was to take you away for the weekend, with Daisy, from Friday afternoon to Sunday night – up north, Bar Harbor, I thought. Nice Valentine's Day celebration, I thought; lovely way to spend your birthday - nice and quiet, I thought. And then Violet had to go and ask Edith what we had planned, and so - naturally - Edith was forced to _tell_ her, and now we're all traipsing to London for a week!"

She paused to catch her breath but put her hand up, indicating in that he was not allowed to speak. "Oh, I'm sorry - we're traveling to England if it suits _you._ But perhaps _I_ shouldn't go. I do have to _work."_

"Oh," he gasped, the light dawning. "Elsie, I'm- "

"Don't. Just … just give me a minute, alright?" She got up and grabbed the dirty dishes off the table, bringing them into the kitchen as Max trotted along behind her.

Charles looked over to Daisy, who just stared at him as she shook her head slowly. The incredulity in her eyes almost screamed at him: _What kind of fool_ _ **are**_ _you?_

"Somehow, petal, I get the feeling that this 'surprise' wasn't supposed to go quite this way?"

"No, I don't think so," she said slowly, quietly. "You'd better be _really_ sorry, Papa. She does _not_ look happy."

"She has every right to be angry with me, the way I spoke to her."

Max came back into the dining room and Daisy reached down to scratch his ears. "I don't know, Papa … I think she's more sad than angry. You sounded like you don't want to go, or like you don't want _Elsie_ to go, anyhow."

"Hm." He got up and headed into the kitchen … slowly.

 _What the hell were you thinking, Charles?_ He couldn't believe he'd been so ridiculous about such an _amazing_ surprise.

Elsie was standing at the sink, scrubbing off their dishes even though he had a perfectly good dishwasher. The sink was full of water so hot steam was rising from it in waves, and he noticed how it was curling the wisps of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail. He wasn't sure how she wasn't burning herself in the water, actually. He moved up behind her and reached out to put his hands on her arms, laying them over her rolled-up cuffs and letting his fingertips press gently into her forearms.

"Stop, please," he said quietly.

She sighed, pulled her hands from the water, and reached for the dish towel.

"I'm sorry you aren't happy with the plan, Charles, but it was not my decision. And it was _meant_ to be a wonderful surprise, you know."

"I _do_ know. And I _am_ happy. And I'm sorry for saying what I said about your job. _That_ was uncalled for."

"It was," she agreed, turning to look him in the eyes. "And the travel schedule wasn't my idea, either – Violet and Edith informed me of it last week."

"So … I'm having a Crawley bash for my birthday, am I?"

She gave him a half smile and chuckled. "Yes, it does appear that way. I'm sorry. I wanted to do something special for your birthday, but this was not what I had envisioned."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Are you going to be there? With my lovely little girl?"

She smiled brightly at that. "I am, apparently. Assuming my boss allows the time off - oh, wait, she virtually planned the whole thing with her Granny," she said, a bit of snark still in her tone, "so it would appear I'm fine."

He looked properly chastised, then bent to kiss her nose. "Well, if you will both be there, then it will be very, very special, indeed."

Elsie sighed deeply, lips pursed, and shook her head. "It's a good thing I love you, you know."

"So … I'm forgiven?"

"For now," she said. "Just make sure you're a good flying companion, alright?"

"I'm the best," he replied with a wink. "I sleep the whole way."

* * *

 _ **Thursday, February 12, 2015**_

Charles evidently hadn't been kidding – he _was_ planning to sleep the entire way. This amazed Elsie, given how terrified his _daughter_ was, and she found that she was a little annoyed by it. She tried to let it go, though, given that he was only in the seat across the aisle because Daisy had requested to sit alongside _Elsie,_ not her Papa.

"Daisy, are you alright?" Elsie asked, seeing the look on Daisy's face as they took their seats. Daisy nodded, but Elsie ignored it.

"Just hold my hand, and you'll be fine," Elsie encouraged, reaching over the wall between their seats. Violet had – of course – booked them first-class seats for both flights, but Elsie was cursing the woman for it right now; the seats were almost self-contained, and Daisy was rather nervous given that their Portland to New York flight had been fraught with turbulence.

Elsie looked over at Charles, still a bit irritated with him for trying to sleep _(which is horrible of you, Els, because one_ _ **must**_ _sleep heading over)._ But, when she cast her eyes upon him, she just couldn't be angry as she took in the image of him tucked under a blanket, head on his pillow, headphones on, and absolutely exhausted because he hadn't slept at all the previous night.

 _And that's not even my fault this time,_ she thought with a smirk. _He just left his packing to the last minute. Who'd have thought?_

She felt Daisy squeeze her hand and she squeezed it right back. They were almost at altitude now, thankfully, and at least the sleeping accommodations in first-class would allow them to lie in an actual 'bed.' Elsie had two plans for this flight: glass of wine, then sleep.

"I'm alright now, I think," Daisy said quietly.

"Good."

Just then, the seatbelt light clicked off and Elsie unbuckled, knelt on her seat, and peered over at Daisy. "Why don't you grab your toothbrush and hairbrush and I'll head back to the loo with you, alright? If we take care of that now, then you'll be good to go until we land in the morning." She smiled fondly at Daisy, who nodded in agreement and then searched through her backpack for the requested items.

Elsie was so grateful for the smooth conditions of the flight now that they were up and over the ocean. She waited in the corridor for Daisy to finish in the lavatory and then walked her back to their seats, where Elsie quickly helped her to braid her hair and get comfortable.

"All set?" she asked, and Daisy smiled.

"Almost."

Elsie watched Daisy fish through the bag again before pulling out a well-loved stuffed horse.

"Fred looks tired, too," Elsie commented, and Daisy giggled. "How about you tuck him in just here," she added, fluffing up a blanket "bed" for the horse.

"'Night, Elsie," Daisy yawned.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Elsie walked back to her own seat just as the flight attendant was making her way down with the drink cart.

"Something to drink, Madam?"

"Yes, please – white wine would be wonderful. Ice on the side, please?" Elsie asked.

The woman nodded and handed over the glasses and wine. "Your daughter is lovely, and very polite," she commented.

Elsie opened her mouth to explain, then clamped it shut for a second. "Thank you," she finally managed, a small smile playing about her mouth.

The flight attendant nodded and made her way down to the next seat.

On the other side of the wall, Daisy smiled brightly. She rolled over and tucked her fists up under her chin, falling fast asleep within minutes, dreaming of afternoons spent on Elsie's farm and feeling very happy, indeed.

* * *

 ** _Friday, February 13, 2014_**

"Elsie!" Cora called, waving frantically over the crowd. "We're over here!"

"Charlie, there," she pointed, reaching down to hold Daisy's hand. The drawback to landing at Heathrow on a Friday morning, she now remembered, was the immense amount of people they had to contend with. They'd been ferreted through all the lines quickly enough, thankfully, but the mob scene by the luggage was insane.

"Go on ahead, and I'll grab the bags," he said, kissing her cheek. "Get Daisy out of here."

"Let's go, then, before he changes his mind!" Elsie winked at Daisy, and off they went.

"Daisy, how wonderful you look!" Cora gushed, crouching down to receive a wonderful hug.

"Hi," Daisy whispered, causing Cora to gasp slightly.

"Well, then," she said, "how about that? Where is your Papa?"

But it was Elsie who answered instead, not wanting Daisy to feel pressured at all. "Charles is taking care of the luggage. Did you drive here yourself?" she asked, looking around for Robert.

Cora laughed lightly. "Oh, don't be ridiculous – I'd be a mess driving in London. No, Mama planned to send a car to fetch you; I, however, refused to stay behind and wait. So I'm your welcome wagon, and the rest are waiting at the house."

' _The house,' she calls it. Of course._

"I'm a bit nervous about seeing it, I don't mind admitting," Elsie said. "The photos alone are rather daunting."

"It's just a house, Elsie," Cora said, attempting to reassure her.

"With about a million rooms! How in the world will I find my way about? I'm a farm girl, Cora."

She looked over at where Charles was standing and took a moment to watch him, her lip tucked underneath her teeth once again. "I know nothing about that high society world of yours – of _his,"_ she whispered.

Cora reached out and squeezed her hand. "Neither did I, really, when I met Robert. Please try not to worry. We don't use the entire house – heaven knows how we'd ever manage to heat it! Once you're familiar with the main rooms, you'll be fine. We're actually quite modern!"

Elsie didn't believe a word of it, but she nodded.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Elsie was speechless at the size of the Crawleys' sprawling estate, but Cora had been right; the parts of the house that they used were large but tastefully decorated, modernized and yet soft in ways that didn't reflect the outward appearance of the building itself.

Charles couldn't wait to show her the library, which he knew she'd fall in love with instantly.

"Oh," she gasped, stopping ten steps past the door. "I can just sleep in here, if you like," she added, running her fingertips over the gilded spines of books by her side.

"Hmm … tempting, but no. The sofa isn't terribly comfortable, and I'd much rather have you in my arms, thanks."

Elsie whipped her head around. "Surely you're joking! They've not placed us in the _same_ room?"

"Why not?"

"Um, because Daisy's with us? Charles, really," she said, exasperated.

"She and Marigold will be in the nursery wing," he said. "It's on the other side of the house, practically."

"The _nursery wing?_ You've got to be kidding me."

He shook his head. "I'm afraid not. They each have their own room, of course. Daisy couldn't wait to get here – hers overlooks the stables," he added, and Elsie smiled.

"Well, what girl wouldn't like that? But really … the same room? With your family here? Oh, my God … with _Violet_ here?" She blushed, making Charles laugh softly.

"It was her idea. She still lives here, you know."

Elsie rolled her eyes and moved over to hug him.

"Why am I not surprised?" she murmured into the arm of his sweater. "Why am I not surprised _at all?"_

He ran his hand soothingly up and down her spine until he felt her tension dissipate. "You'll be fine, Els. They're just like everyone else."

"Right. Just keep telling me that repeatedly over the course of the next week."

* * *

They headed down for luncheon, and then the rest of the afternoon was spent unpacking and relaxing. Before dinner, Robert offered to give Elsie a tour of the grounds. She was happy for the opportunity to spend some time one-on-one with him, and found him to be a kind man who was proud of his home, to be sure, but who spent most of their time together regaling her with stories of his family and, by extension, of Charles.

Elsie loved having other people's perspectives on Charles; she had Edith back in Misty Cove, of course, but that was about it. She and Mary weren't exactly on speaking terms lately, and she was dreading the elder daughter's arrival tomorrow. Perhaps the only thing she was dreading _more_ was that Mary would be accompanied by her husband.

"It's so beautiful," Elsie gushed, looking out over the estate. "Even in winter, it's just so amazingly beautiful."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me to keep it in the family. It'll belong to Mary and Edith one day, I suppose. I don't think they quite see the beauty of it, though," Robert said sadly.

"I don't know about Mary," Elsie replied tactfully, "but I know Edith loves it very much."

Robert turned to contemplate Elsie, this woman who had captured his best friend's heart so completely. That she was a close confidante of his youngest daughter was an added bonus.

"Does she? I had no idea, really."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, it was she who'd shown me photos of it, originally. She simply glowed when she described the history of the place, and the changes you and Cora have made since you've been married."

"I'm glad you told me that," he said after a minute. "I'm not sure why it matters so much, but it _does._ "

Elsie turned to face him fully. "It matters because you're a kind man, Robert, and you want your daughters to be happy, and you want them to value the things that _you_ value. I'd say Edith does, in my opinion."

He hummed. "You're quite close to her, I know. Helping her through that horrid time with Michael …" he trailed off, getting lost in his memories for a moment. "I can't tell you how much it meant to us that you were there for her."

"Edith is very dear to me, Robert," she said quietly.

"Yes. It's funny, you know. You're here with Charles and Daisy, for what I am sure will be the first of many, many times, yet I feel in some ways as if you've been on the periphery of my family for years. I'm glad to have a chance to get to know you better."

Elsie smiled brilliantly and tilted her head. "Likewise. Thank you."

They headed in to get ready for dinner, which was to be blessedly casual. The girls were in one of the parlours, where an enormous television had been set up along with several movies to choose from and a pizza on the table. Elsie and Charles stopped in to see them on their way to the dining room.

"Gee, I wonder which they'll pick?" Charles murmured in Elsie's ear, seeing a rather familiar yellow character peeking up from the pile of covers.

"Oh, I've no idea at all," she giggled as Marigold reached for that very box and squealed.

"Alright, now – well behaved, not too much popcorn, and bedtime when Auntie Cora says, yes?" Charles said to Daisy.

"Yes, Papa, we'll be good," Daisy answered. She ran over to kiss and hug him goodnight, and hugged Elsie as well.

"Sleep well, Daisy. See you at breakfast, okay?"

Daisy nodded, then ran back to her seat as Marigold put the movie in. Charles and Elsie made their way to the dining room, where they enjoyed a lovely meal with Robert, Cora, Violet, and Edith. After about three hours of talking, drinking, laughing, and storytelling, Edith yawned widely.

"I'm sorry, everyone, but I'm exhausted. I'd like to call Bertie before heading to bed," she said, rising from her seat as the others followed suit.

"It's a shame he couldn't come," Cora said, and Edith nodded.

"Let's go," Charles whispered, holding the door open for Elsie. "Good night, everyone."

"Good night, you two," Cora said with a wink.

Elsie and Charles walked hand in hand up to the corridor to their room – or, rather, _rooms,_ as they'd been assigned to a suite with a bedroom, attached en suite, and sitting room. Ten minutes later, they were ready for bed.

"This is just spectacular," Elsie gushed, standing by the window and pulling the gauze curtain aside to look out. "The stars … they're so bright, Charles. And the moon is almost full!"

He joined her at the window and peered out at the view, almost ethereal in how the moonlight bounced off the trees in the distance, giving them a soft glow.

"Mmm," Elsie murmured as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. "And how shall we celebrate your last day in your forties?" she teased.

"Oh, I think I have an idea," he said, and his voice rumbling through her back sent a shiver down her spine. "Care to help me with that? I can assure you, we are most alone in this corridor."

Elsie turned in his arms. "Are we truly?"

"Oh, yes. This is the guest area. The family are on the other side of the grand staircase. I thought you got the grand tour earlier?" he teased.

"Well, then, Mr. Carson," she replied softly, licking her lips as she reached for the tie on his bathrobe, "why don't you show me that lovely bed over there?"

"That bed?" he asked, pointing to it, and she smiled.

"That's the one," she replied playfully. "After all, you have a Valentine's Day birthday, and it's your _fiftieth_ at that," she purred, running her fingernails over his stomach. "I think it should be celebrated in the most _special_ of ways, don't you?"

Charles reached down and swept her up in his arms, causing a lovely laugh to cross her lips. He deposited her on the bed and lay on his side next to her, running his fingers playfully over the sash of her own robe, noting with interest that she appeared to have nothing on underneath it.

"Why don't you show me what you had in mind?" he asked breathlessly.

She pushed him over onto his back and knelt beside him, running her fingers up and down his thigh with one hand as she peeled away his robe with the other.

"Well," she said, leaning over until their lips were almost touching, "it _does_ involve a great deal of … kisses."

He lifted his head to meet her lips with his own, but she backed away quickly and shook her head.

"Oh, no, love … not there," she murmured. She placed her lips to his collarbone, kissing and suckling on the sensitive skin where his neck met his shoulder, and moved her way slowly down his torso.

"Oh," he gasped, then cleared his throat. "I see what you mean."

 _Really,_ he thought, _who am I to argue?_

* * *

 **I'm not entirely happy with parts of this, but some people (ahem lbiscuit5) keep pushing for faster updates. Please let me know what you all thought. Up next is the actual party. xx**


	21. A Valentine Birthday

**A/N: We're back! This is the actual birthday party day, I promise. The song quoted below and mentioned later is on my Spotify playlist for this story. Also, there are pictures of a few of the birthday gifts and also of Elsie's Valentine's Day gift from Charles on my tumblr blog.**

 **Please leave a little review after reading and let me know what you thought. And bonus points to anyone who spots the faint echo of one of my favorite scenes from the movie "Pretty Woman." :)**

 **Thanks to everyone for the love and amazing reviews for this fic. I am totally humbled by your support. x**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _Like a song of love that clings to me_**

 ** _How the thought of you does things to me_**

 ** _Never before has someone been more ..._**

Morning found Charles and Elsie tucked into one another's embrace, sleeping soundly. Outside a gentle snow was falling, covering the grounds of the estate in a fresh coating of feathery dust. Had either of them been awake to look out the window, they'd surely have commented on the beauty of the glistening flurries in the faint sunlight.

Charles was the first to stir, opening his eyes and taking a moment to familiarize himself with his surroundings. He was often up early in the morning, but the travel and time difference seemed to have done him in.

 _Getting on, old man,_ he told himself. _Fifty today._

And, feeling every one of those fifty years, he gently rose from the bed, not wanting to wake Elsie just yet. He moved over and tossed another log onto the fire, sparing a moment to wonder how frigid the rooms must have been decades ago when there had not been a supplemental heating system that kicked on at a certain temperature. But then he remembered there surely would have been staff for that, some tweenie popping in on slumbering, disrobed couples in the early morning hours and adding wood to build up the fires.

 _I think I'd rather have done it myself,_ he thought, shuddering at the thought of someone not much older than Daisy popping in on him and Elsie as they were now.

He shuffled back to the bed and climbed under the covers, rolled onto his side, and scooped Elsie up in his arms. He had heard her begin to stir a moment ago and had truly not wanted to wake her fully, but seeing her lying in the bed … well, his mind changed of its own volition, his physical reaction to the closeness of her body almost painfully evident.

"Mmm," she murmured, scooting herself over so that his body was flush against her side, and she smiled as she took note of his current state. She reached a sneaking hand downward, and began to caress his hip and thigh with her fingertips.

"You're quite the teasing little one, aren't you?" he whispered into her ear, causing her to laugh softly.

"Happy Valentine's Day," she said. "And Birthday."

"Happy Valentine's Day to you," he replied. "And thank you. I don't think I've had a more wonderful birthday morning in my entire life," he added, the feeling evident in his voice.

She turned her head and kissed him, pulling back before she could get too lost in it. "Do you mean that?"

"I do," he said, nodding. "This is just … perfect. Waking up with you like this, snow softly falling, fire crackling in the fireplace. It's like our own little world."

Elsie's face broke out in a soft smile, and - completely unexpectedly - her eyes filled with tears.

"Els?" Charles asked, reaching his hand up to her face. "Are you alright? I hope I've not upset you by saying that."

She swallowed and shook her head. "No," she soothed him, "not at all. I'm just … I don't know, exactly. Happy. I think I'm just so very, very _happy."_

"Well, then." He leaned over and kissed away her tears, then moved his lips down her cheek to her jaw, and eventually her neck. She tilted her head slightly to allow him better access and trailed her hand up his arm, grasping his shoulder as a shudder passed through her body at his touch.

"Charles," she whispered breathlessly, rolling toward him and raising a leg so that she could hook her ankle around his calf. "Come here, love, please."

He groaned as she practically pulled him on top of herself, wrapped her legs around him, and guided their bodies together. It was an unexpectedly quick and powerful move from her, and he stilled his own movements for a moment once he managed to balance his weight on his arms.

"No," she protested, "please … don't stop. I _need_ you, Charlie."

He raised an eyebrow at the nickname, and she shook her head frustratedly as she slid her hands down his back to pull him in further.

"Like this?" he asked, sliding in fully and groaning as she began to move her hips erratically, encouraging him to increase his pace.

"Yes," she sighed, throwing her head back against the bed as she writhed beneath him, vaguely aware of her fingernails digging into his back.

It didn't take long for them both to fall over the edge, her biting down on her lip to control her scream as he shouted her name into the pillow that was now resting somewhere above her shoulder.

He fell onto his back beside her, heart pounding in his chest as they caught their breath.

Elsie was the first to recover, and she turned onto her side and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his chest, swirling her tongue around his nipple, now covered in a sheet of sweat, and causing him to moan once again.

"Sorry," she smirked, settling down on her elbow, hand cradling her head as she looked into his dark, gray eyes.

"Don't be," he chuckled, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "But I must say, that was rather unlike you. Or, perhaps, unlike the you that _I_ have been blessed to know up to this point."

"Hmm, well, you certainly didn't seem to mind," she said, smiling down at him lovingly. She moved her fingers to trail up and down his chest; after three passes he snatched them up in his own hand and placed a kiss to her wrist, sending yet another delicious shudder down to the center of her body.

"No, not at all," he said emphatically. "It's one hell of a way to start my day, I'll say that."

They snuggled into one another's embrace once again, Charles mindlessly caressing her back with his fingertips.

"I have something for you," he said eventually. "And after I give it to you, I think it would behoove us to get up and shower, much as I hate to admit it, before they send a search party."

"Well, I have something for you as well," she replied, kissing his stubbly chin, "but you can't have it until tonight. It's a combination gift, birthday and Valentine's."

"Opening it in front of the family?" he asked. "So … not some risqué Valentine's gift?"

"Ha! Hardly," she answered, shaking her head. Then she stopped suddenly and stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "And yours?"

But he just shook his head and smiled, then moved to get out of the bed. Elsie tossed the pillows back against the headboard and sat up against them, pulling the blankets up around her waist. She spared a second to consider why she was so comfortable sitting bare-chested against them, why it didn't bother her as it always had with Joe. She watched as he moved over to his suitcase to retrieve something from the pocket, then shook her head.

 _It's just something else that's different with him, Els. Why question it?_

He returned to the bed with a black velvet box in hand, almost the size of a deck of cards.

"I hope you won't think it silly," he said, his voice carrying a note of what seemed to Elsie to be embarrassment.

"Whyever would I think that? I _do_ think it likely that I don't deserve what's in that box, however," she replied, pointing a finger at it and shaking her head.

He looked deep into her eyes. "You deserve _more_ than what is in _this_ box, Elsie Hughes, but I don't think the time is right for that. _Yet."_

She understood instantly, and felt her heart flutter wildly in her chest.

"Well, then," she whispered.

Elsie swallowed as she held out her hand, and he gently laid the box in her palm. She brushed her fingers over the lid and pried it open with her thumb, gasping loudly as her eyes fell upon its contents.

"Charles," she gasped, her eyes filling, "it's … exquisite."

Elsie reached in to remove the necklace from the box, examining its incredible detail and allowing her tears to spill over as she took in the full symbolism of the object she now held in her hands.

"It's us," he explained, and she nodded, the wordless signal that she already understood the meaning.

The chain was made of delicate gold and it held a pendant that did, indeed, seem to be so very much _them._ The top half was crafted of white gold, in the design of a thistle. The leaves of the thistle reached downward around a sparkling, solitaire ruby, and they grasped onto a heart crafted of yellow gold.

"For my Scottish beauty," he continued, "who has reached out to me and shared her own heart, and managed to grasp onto mine in the process."

He paused, leaning in to delicately kiss her lips and then resting his forehead on hers. "I only hope she never lets it go."

"I think that's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I meant every word," he answered, and she gave him a watery smile.

"Thistle is a remarkable thing, Charles. Have you ever encountered it in the wild?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid I haven't."

"It creeps in slowly, over the course of two years. The first year it is small, prickly, but not terribly threatening or remarkable in appearance. But the second year, well, that's when it shows its true colors. It springs forth quickly, determinedly, and dangerously. It is difficult to do battle with, and it is inherently protective of all things it touches."

"I'd say I chose well, then," he said, smiling softly at her, and she nodded.

"You did at that," she marveled, backing away from him slightly and shaking her head at him in wonder. "And you have nothing to fear."

He furrowed his brow, and she leaned forward to drop a chaste kiss to his forehead as she placed her hand over his heart.

"I will protect it with everything I have," she explained. "And I'm _never_ letting it go."

* * *

Elsie decided to take the shower first, but soon after jumping in she was startled by a burst of cold air.

"May I join you?" Charles asked, his head peeking through the shower door.

She smiled and nodded. "If you behave."

"I will," he said, hand over his heart. "Promise."

"Thank God they put a _real_ shower in here, and not just one of those foolish hand-held things," Elsie sighed, leaning back as Charles moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

He dropped a kiss to her shoulder and she moved aside so that he could wet his hair, both of them grateful for the hot, steamy water. He washed her hair, something which she found almost more intimate than their escapades in the bed over the past morning and evening. As she rinsed the shampoo out, he reached around her to grab the sponge, then lovingly ran it over her shoulders and back - a task which she happily reciprocated minutes later.

"I'm going to get out of here before we _never_ get out of here," she said, and he nodded.

"Good idea," he rumbled, but he grabbed her in a tight embrace before she made it to the door. "Just one kiss, I promise," he said, silencing her protests.

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Fine! But I'm starving, birthday boy. _One_ kiss … and then," she added, briefly glancing down and smirking at him, "perhaps some colder water for you?"

"Indeed."

* * *

"There you are! I was about to send up a search party," Cora murmured to Elsie as she and Charles made their way into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"Oh, bless your heart," Elsie gushed. "And are these … scones?" she asked, peeling back the cloth from the basket in the middle of the counter.

Cora laughed. "Help yourself! I'm nothing like your friend who has that lovely restaurant, but I have learned to do scones properly."

Elsie reached for one and plated it, then turned back and grabbed another out of the basket before heading over to the table.

"Oh, they're still _warm,"_ she muttered, and Charles shook his head and laughed.

"Work up an appetite?" Cora whispered in his ear, and she giggled when the tips of his ears turned red.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he volleyed as he headed in to sit by Elsie near the head of the table.

"Well, it _is_ your birthday," she continued, making both him _and_ Elsie stare determinedly into their cups.

"Perhaps you could stop trying to embarrass the hell out of me, Cora, and join us," Elsie called from the table. "Wait, where are the children? It's almost noon!"

"Outside in the snow," came Robert's voice from the direction of the back door. He leaned in to kiss his wife, then hung his coat on the rack and rubbed his hands together briskly. "It's _freezing_ out there, but I couldn't coax them in. They're out by the stables, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Charles assured him. "Daisy adores the horses, you know that. They'll be safe, won't they?" He turned to Elsie, and she nodded.

"Oh, yes. She knows better than to try to ride without an adult present."

"Good," Cora said, joining them at the table with her tea.

"Everything all set for the party?" Robert asked as he poured a cup of tea, and she nodded.

"Yes, I think so. Mary and Richard landed an hour ago, they should be here anytime."

Elsie took another bite of scone, but remained silent. There were a great many things she _was_ looking forward to this week, but spending time with Mary and Richard Carlisle was not one of them.

"The caterers are arriving at four, and Mama will deal with them," Cora continued, a smile playing about her lips. "She was rather amazing with them at Mary's wedding, I must admit. And she needs a job so that I don't kill her by six."

"How many people did you invite, exactly?" Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

"Don't ask," Robert muttered, and Elsie sent him a sideways glance.

"Um … well," Cora said, fiddling with her napkin. "Sixty? Or thereabouts?"

" _Sixty?!"_ Charles gasped. "Cora, I don't think I _know_ sixty people!"

"But you do," she explained. "At least twenty are family and friends! Then there are a few old mates of yours from Uni that Robert's been in touch with, and the people from your firm - you know I had to invite them, Charles - and a few others. Then a couple of neighbors, and Isobel, of course. Don't worry," she said, attempting to both convince him and reassure herself.

Charles just shook his head. "Alright," he gave in, realizing he really didn't even have a choice. "Sixty."

"And the band … don't forget the band," Robert reminded her, and Charles's eyebrows flew up again.

"The _band?_ For heaven's sake, it's a birthday, not a wedding! Cora, really, this is too much."

"Nonsense," she said, in a tone that Elsie was fairly certain had been used on the Crawley daughters countless times. "It's your birthday, it's a big one, and we're your family. We _never_ get to see you now that you've moved away," she pouted, "and we _wanted_ to do this. So please allow it all to happen, Charles. The main event is from seven to eleven this evening, so you can relax before that. Then it's dinner, dancing, drinking, and fun."

He just shook his head. He'd known it would be a some sort of grand affair - Violet wouldn't have flown them out otherwise - but he was still moved by all the effort they'd clearly put into organizing it.

"Thank you," he said simply.

The rest of the afternoon was spent leisurely. Elsie finished unpacking their things and Daisy and Charles spent a couple of hours playing games in the library while Elsie curled up by the fire with a book. It was a peaceful, quiet day, broken up only a bit by Mary and Richard's arrival.

"Damned flight was late," Richard had announced by way of a greeting. "I'm going to lie down."

Mary followed soon afterwards, having stopped only briefly into the library to greet everyone.

"Well," Elsie murmured when they'd both headed up, "I guess a change of scenery didn't do much to improve _his_ mood."

Charles shook his head. "I have no idea what she sees in him but, then again, I was hardly in a place to lecture her about choosing a good spouse," he whispered into Elsie's ear.

She turned and smiled sadly at him, and nodded. "I suppose you're right. And she'd never have listened, anyhow, you know that."

Violet had been gone most of the day but arrived back at the house at three, by which point the entire family had joined Elsie, Charles, and Daisy in the library. The girls were playing in a corner with the iPads, and the adults were enjoying an afternoon cocktail in what Robert kept referring to as 'the calm before Cora's party storm.'

"Happy Birthday, Charles," Violet said as he embraced her. "And Elsie, how lovely to see you again." She grasped Elsie's hands in hers and kissed her cheek. "You look marvelous, my dear."

"As do you, Violet. Thank you so very much for arranging all of this."

"It was my pleasure, dear," she answered, patting Elsie's hand before turning to introduce the woman who'd accompanied her.

"Elsie, this is Dr. Isobel Crawley. We're cousins, sort of - somewhere way back in the family line – but, oddly, we only met three years ago, when she moved to Downton to take over the local hospital."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Elsie," Isobel said, and Elsie was immediately taken by the woman's open and honest, wide smile and the kindness in her eyes.

"Likewise," Elsie replied, shaking the woman's hand.

"Violet has told me all about you - all good, I can assure you," Isobel added, and Elsie smiled.

"And Charles - Happy Birthday, you dear man," Isobel said, turning to him to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Isobel. It's so wonderful to see you."

"Alright!" Violet announced, clapping her hands together and rubbing them almost gleefully. "What's the plan?"

As Cora led her away, Isobel accepted a drink from Robert and headed over to see the girls. She crouched down to see what they were doing, and began chatting with Marigold.

"Hi," Daisy said quietly, and Isobel gasped.

"Daisy! Oh, my dear, how lovely to hear your sweet voice," Isobel said. "Do you like your new home?"

Daisy nodded, then tapped the tablet's screen to stop their game from timing out.

"What's your favorite thing?" Isobel asked, not really expecting an answer. "Besides Marigold, of course," she added with a wink.

"The farm," Daisy whispered shyly, and Isobel nodded. _Violet did mention that Elsie owns some kind of farm … that must be what she means._

"Well, I'll leave you to your game," she said, getting up and heading over to the window. "Ohh, it's snowing again," she said to no one in particular.

Elsie joined her and peered outside. "I thought it never snowed here, but evidently I was wrong! Silly me, hoping to escape it for a while."

"Yes, I hear you do get a lot." Isobel said.

Robert and Charles took two chairs by the fire and watched the ladies as they were chatting.

"She's really wonderful, isn't she?" Robert asked his oldest mate, and was rewarded with a warm smile spreading over Charles's face as he stared unabashedly at Elsie.

"She really is," Charles said, tearing his eyes away from her. "I never knew it could be like this," he whispered, and Robert nodded.

"I know the feeling, my friend. So …?"

"So … what?" Charles asked.

"Oh, come on, Charles. We're not getting any younger, as your birthday only serves to remind us. Are you going to, you know, _do something_ about it?" he asked, tilting his head in Elsie's direction.

Charles sighed deeply, shaking his head at his friend's forthrightness. "Not yet."

"Why not?"

"We've agreed that it's best to wait, at least until Daisy is more like her old self. She's making great progress, chatting with most of the family now, but I still don't think she has fully dealt with Alice's death. We just don't want to thrust her into something she's not ready for."

Robert watched as the girls put away the iPad, and saw Daisy head over to the window where she joined Elsie and Isobel. He watched as Daisy made her way to Elsie's side and leaned into her; Elsie didn't halt her conversation, but wrapped her arm around Daisy's shoulders and squeezed her in a half-hug.

"I'd say she's more ready than you think, judging from _that,"_ Robert answered.

"They _are_ developing a nice relationship, but I'm still going to wait, Robert. Things are fine just the way they are, right now."

"Fair enough," Robert said. "But don't wait _too_ long. Marriage really can be the most wonderful experience. I think you saw a glimpse of that in the early days, though, didn't you?"

Charles sat back, his fingertips pressed to his lips as he thought about his answer.

"If you had asked me that question a couple of years ago, I'd have said _yes_. I'd have talked about the wonderful days Alice and I had in the beginning, working on our careers during the day and feeding off of one another's ambition, then coming home at night to share a place that was just our own.

"But to answer that question _today,_ now that I've been given this wonderful chance with Elsie, I think my answer is different."

"How so?" Robert enquired, honestly intrigued.

Charles took the last sip of his drink, the ice cubes clinking in the glass as he set it back down. He leaned back in the chair and laid his hands on his knees. "I think what I had with Alice fit my idea of what a marriage was _supposed_ to be. The house, the cars, the careers, a baby. But now, looking back on it, I wonder if I confused admiration and youthful lust for actual _love_.

"Being with Elsie is nothing like being with Alice. What we have between us …" He shook his head. "I can't even explain it, and I certainly cannot compare her to Alice because there _is_ no comparison."

Robert smiled. "We can all see it, you know. Harder for you, perhaps, being in the middle of it. But the way she looks at you, it's so different from the way Alice did."

Charles laughed, drawing the attention of the foursome by the window. Elsie smiled at him and tilted her head, wondering what they were discussing, before turning back to answer something Isobel had asked her.

"Daisy said the same thing, once," Charles said. "I thought it was just wishful thinking, perhaps, on her part."

"Doubtful," Robert answered. "She's smart as a whip, your girl."

Charles hummed, then reached his hand up as Elsie approached, taking her fingers and kissing them.

"I'm heading up while you boys chat. I'd like to finish my book, I think, in that lovely chair by the fire in the bedroom, and Cora said something about 'girl time.' Whatever that means."

Robert laughed. "It means something about polishing nails and drinking champagne, I believe," he said.

"Then I'm all in!" Elsie giggled. "See you soon?" She leaned over and kissed Charles, smiling into the kiss as she felt his hand rest on the small of her back.

"Absolutely," he said, relinquishing his hold on her as she stood up once again.

* * *

"So things are going well?" Cora pried, sitting beside Elsie as they let their nails dry.

Elsie shook her head and laughed. "They are," she admitted, "as if you didn't know. He tells you both _everything!"_

But Cora shook her head, a thoughtful look on her face. "No, actually, he doesn't. Not about you."

Elsie was taken aback by that. "Truly?"

"Truly. He used to tell us everything about Alice," she said. Then she looked up at Elsie apologetically, but Elsie waved away her concern.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "We do discuss her, and it's quite alright. I know how it was for them, how it was for _him,_ but we try not to shy away from it all – for Daisy's sake, mostly."

"Of course, you didn't know him then," Cora elaborated. "But yes, he used to tell us everything – the good and the bad of it all. It was hard for him, going it alone while that bitch was screwing around behind his back," she said bluntly.

"Well, that's one way to put it," Elsie chuckled. "But I'd say he did marvelously."

"Oh, so would I! But we've heard nothing much about you, except that you're, well … _wonderful._ "

Elsie turned scarlet and suddenly found something intensely interesting to examine on her thumb. "I see," she said quietly.

"I've known the man over twenty years, Elsie. He's _never_ been as happy as he is now. You're _good_ together, and I don't have to hear the words from his mouth to know that they're true."

"I agree," Elsie allowed. "But … well, there is Daisy."

"If you'll permit me to be insanely nosey, which my husband tells me I am _quite_ good at, I'd like to make a suggestion."

Elsie looked up again. "Go on."

"Don't worry so much about Daisy," she said. Elsie raised an eyebrow, but Cora ignored the look of disbelief. "I'm being totally serious. Daisy left here a shell of herself, Elsie. She was so broken, so _sad,_ and I worried that she'd never be able to pull herself back from that. She wasn't talking to anyone except Charles. She'd drawn herself into her own mind. She immersed herself in books, in drawing, but stopped participating in _life_.

"She did the bare minimum to get by at school when Alice moved out. She fell behind in maths, which Charles helped her through, and skated through the rest on her intelligence alone. But when Alice died, Daisy became deeply depressed, and it frightened me."

"Yes," Elsie said softly, nodding. "I can see why."

"But look at her _now!_ " Cora exclaimed. "She's our old Daisy, only better, because she's not dealing with the sadness of her parents not getting along. I'm not saying she's better off having lost her mother at such a young age, mind you – that is awful for anyone at _any_ age. But Misty Cove has made a positive difference in her life. _You_ have made a difference in her life, Elsie. She sends us letters about the farm, pictures of the horses … once, a picture of _you._ She adores you, and would welcome you into their lives fully if you and Charles would only stop being afraid to take that step."

"It's been barely six months, Cora. It's too quick …"

"I'm not saying get married _tomorrow,_ Elsie. But tell me you'd at least consider it?"

Elsie pursed her lips. "Perhaps - as something to decide _much_ farther down the road."

"Fair enough," Cora told her. "I've said my piece. But, Elsie … you really _have_ made the biggest difference in their lives. You must understand that."

"You've only got half the story there, Cora. And I'm not ready to tell you about it just now, but I will, one day," Elsie replied. "Because the difference _they've_ made in _my_ life is what's truly remarkable."

"See? Made for each other," Cora sighed, sinking back in her chair and allowing her eyes to close. "One hundred percent."

Elsie reached up and fingered the pendant that rested underneath her sweater.

 _Perhaps we are,_ she thought.

* * *

"Els, have you seen my tie?" Charles asked.

She reached into the side pocket of his jacket and pulled it out.

"Here. Old packing trick," she giggled, wrapping it around his neck and tying it for him.

"Where'd you learn to do this, living your life on farms?" he grumbled playfully, and she reached around and swatted his behind.

"Oh, I get around," she answered, turning her back to him. "Zip me up, would you?"

Just then, Daisy entered their room. "You guys aren't ready yet?" she asked incredulously. "What took you so long?"

Charles finished the zipper and even managed to hook the tiny hook-and-eye above it.

"I fell asleep," he said sheepishly, and Elsie laughed.

"He really did! He's getting old," she whispered loudly, winking at Daisy, who giggled in return.

"How do I look?" Daisy asked, spinning around and showing off a new dress. "It's from Aunt Mary – she said it makes me look 'radiant.'"

"She's right," Elsie said, smiling. _At least Mary has some redeeming qualities._

"Can you fix my hair?" Daisy asked, holding out her brush to Elsie. "A French braid, do you know how?"

"Sure, come here." Elsie sat on the bed and patted the mattress, encouraging Daisy to join her.

Charles looked on as Elsie carefully brushed out Daisy's hair and divided it into sections, her nimble fingers flying through the braiding as if she'd done it a million times before. It was the second time he'd seen this woman fix his daughter's hair, and it filled his heart almost to the point of bursting.

"There," Elsie said a minute later, tying a ribbon at the bottom of the braid. "All set!"

"Let's go, Papa!" Daisy squealed. "It's party time!"

He took Daisy's hand and the threesome made their way down the massive center stairway that led to the large hall below.

Elsie came to a dead stop on the last landing, completely stunned by the sight before her.

The entire room was decorated in white lights: they were in plants, woven around the mantelpiece and over shelves, and suspended from the ceiling in swags. Fully-liveried servers were walking about offering hors d'œuvres to the guests milling about. A four-piece band was set up in the far corner, by the open doors that led to the library, and Elsie could see that the library furniture had been moved around to accommodate several smaller tables and chairs in case guests wished to sit and chat. Other seating was strategically placed around the hall, but the main area remained open for dancing.

"Elsie?" Charles reached for her hand as Daisy ran the rest of the way downstairs and found Marigold.

"It's … oh, my … it doesn't even look like the same place we were in just four hours ago!" she gasped. "Cora and Violet have completely outdone themselves!"

"It's always like this when they have a party. And don't worry – you look spectacular," he praised her, allowing his eyes to rake up and down her body. She'd chosen a rather fitted, low-cut, black dress with three-quarter sleeves, and the pendant he'd given her that morning sparkled brilliantly against her freckled skin. She'd swept up her hair in a loose chignon, and her black patent heels completed the ensemble.

"I feel very out of place here," she admitted quietly.

"Don't," he said, attempting to reassure her. "You're with the guest of honor, after all."

"That's why they're all staring at you," she said, smiling at Robert as he beckoned them downstairs.

"You've got that half right," Charles whispered in her ear, his breath fluttering the at the nape of her neck. He took her hand securely in his and they headed down the rest of the way, to the sounds of applause and shouted 'Happy Birthday' and 'Congratulations' from all those assembled.

"Thank you all so very much," Charles said loudly, gathering everyone's attention with his deep voice. "And my thanks to Cora and Robert for hosting this lovely evening – truly, they are the best friends any man could hope to have, and I'm so blessed that they opened up their family to me so many years ago."

He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and motioned for Elsie to do the same.

"A toast – to wonderful friends and amazing family! Best wishes to you all!"

He raised his glass and all the guests followed suit, and the band resumed playing.

* * *

The snow was falling steadily by the time dinner was finished, and after an hour of drinking and dancing the guests started leaving the party in droves, fearful that they'd not be able to get through the snow if they waited much longer. Gifts set on a table in the library had been promptly forgotten as people scrambled for coats and scarves, called drivers, and waited for the walk to be shoveled repeatedly as the row of cars moved forward slowly.

"Oh, what a shame," Elsie said sadly, running her hand up and down Charles's back from where she stood beside him.

"Story of my life," he chuckled, "with a February birthday. It rarely snowed when I was a lad, but I would need more than only _my_ fingers to count the amount of times the snow we got came on my birthday. It felt cursed, somehow."

"Come on," Elsie said, tugging him away from the window. "That's the last of them, and you have a family and a mountain of gifts waiting for you in the library."

He turned to face her and rested his hands on her hips.

"And what if I said that everything I wanted is right here?"

Elsie smiled and shook her head. "You daft man, your _daughter_ is in that room, you know. Best not let her hear you say that."

"True," he admitted, "but I think you know what I meant, Elsie."

He leaned down and kissed her warmly, but chastely, then backed away and took her by the hand. As they crossed the hall, he stopped to grab two more glasses of champagne, one of which he handed to Elsie as they joined the rest of the family.

"Present time!" Marigold shouted, and Daisy giggled next to her, nodding furiously at her Papa.

"Sit," Violet ordered, looking at Charles but pointing to the large sofa that remained empty. "Both of you."

"As you wish, Milady," Charles replied, no small amount of cheek in his voice.

Violet had turned toward the gift table but whipped around again upon hearing his comment, giving him a steely glare. Charles noticed the mischief in her eyes, and hoped everyone else did, too. He laughed, and Violet shook her head as she moved over to the gift table and asked the girls to find the ones from the family.

"Here," Daisy whispered, bringing hers over first.

"Did you wrap this yourself?" Charles asked, putting all the wonder he could into his voice. She nodded proudly, and he held out his arm so that she could snuggle in by his side as he pried the paper back.

"Oh, Daisy, this is … splendid," he managed, attempting to control his emotions.

On his lap rested a scrapbook, lovingly put together by his daughter (in what spare time and secret place he didn't yet know … although the auburn-haired beauty seated to his left was his first guess to take the title of 'accomplice') and containing stories, sketches, paintings and more, all done in Daisy's fair hand.

As he turned the pages he took note of only a few, knowing he'd go back countless times in the future to revisit them all. The first was the picture Daisy drew in Miss Baxter's office on her first day there, but then they evolved: beach, Daisy with Charles, two sketches of him alone – working in one and cooking dinner in the other - two of him with Elsie, and one of the three of them together, and - oddly, he thought - one of the three of them and Tommy the day they went out for a movie and some pizza.

He looked to his side and noticed Elsie looking on with awe.

"Are you responsible for this?" he asked in a whisper, but she shook her head.

"Miss Baxter helped me," Daisy told him. "I asked her to when she said I should start putting things in a portfolio, to save them."

"What a fantastic idea, Daisy," Elsie said, and Daisy beamed.

"Thank you, petal," Charles said, and he set the book aside so that Daisy could sit in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly, and he returned the embrace as he placed a kiss to her forehead.

"Surely she's a bit old for sitting in your lap?" Richard said from across the room.

Charles looked up sharply, meeting the other man's gaze from where he sat. "No, she isn't. I'll gladly take love from my daughter for as long as she's willing to give it, and I'll thank you to remember that."

Richard pursed his lips and nodded, conceding defeat … for now.

 _That man really is insufferable,_ Elsie thought, and she reached her hand out to squeeze Daisy's arm. "Well done, you," she whispered, and Daisy nodded.

"Oh, let us go next," Cora said, her happy voice breaking the oddly heavy mood that had settled amongst them. She selected their gift from the table as Charles set Daisy's book aside.

"It's quite heavy," Charles said, puzzled, as she placed it in his lap. He held the box up and shook it gently, making everyone laugh, before putting it back on his legs and opening it.

Inside was a corrugated cardboard box, sealed tightly with tape.

"Here, let me," Elsie offered, reaching over and puncturing the seam with her thumbnail, then dragging it through the tape until quite a wide spot had been unsealed. She and Charles determinedly avoided one another's eyes as fleeting images of her nails raking down his back earlier that morning fluttered through their minds.

"Thank you," he managed, swallowing with some difficulty as he pried open the top of the box. Inside was an item wrapped in paper, nestled in amongst some packaging peanuts. He reached in and removed the item, attempting to keep the small bits of Styrofoam contained.

As he peeled away the paper, he realized what it was. "Oh, my. Robert, Cora … this is _incredible."_

He removed the rest of the paper to reveal an antique clock. It was made of rosewood and measured just under ten inches tall. He turned it in his hands, examining it from all sides.

"This is an antique," he murmured, looking to Robert, who nodded in agreement.

"It is."

Charles looked back in the box and spotted a note. He gently handed the clock to Elsie as he removed the envelope and read the note aloud.

 _"To_ _our 'brother,' Charles, as he celebrates the day when the hours of his life cross this most significant threshold. Here's to the next fifty, and to never forgetting where you come from."_

"Oh, Charles," Elsie whispered, holding the base of the clock out for him to see.

"Parkinson and Frodsham were out of London," Robert told them. "They went out of business in 1947, but this one was undoubtedly manufactured at least twenty years prior to that." He smiled at his best friend, the only brother Robert had ever really had, and Charles nodded in reply, additional words unnecessary.

"Happy Birthday," Cora said quietly, and Charles thanked her.

Marigold brought over the gift from her and Edith next, which was a first-edition book entitled World War I: The Definitive Visual History.

"It was published almost two years ago, and I managed to meet the author and have it signed," Edith told him.

Charles opened the cover and read the inscription. "Thank you, Edith. This is absolutely wonderful – I may just start it tomorrow."

Next was the gift from Mary and Richard – a set of two small boxes. As Charles lifted the lid of the first one, Elsie hazarded a glance at the Carlisles, one of whom looked extremely bored, and one of whom was watching her beloved uncle with a rare light in her eyes.

Inside the box was a fountain pen, handcrafted of Australian wood. The attention to detail was superb, and the larger size of the pen was a perfect fit in Charles's hand.

"This is truly remarkable," he said to Mary, choosing to ignore Richard for the moment.

"Well, I know you, Uncle Charles – none of those 'new-fangled' pens for you." She smiled affectionately at him. "There are tips and whatnot in the other box," she added, indicating the one in his lap that he'd not yet opened.

"I shall treasure this, Mary, thank you."

Richard raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but wisely said nothing. He'd thought the pen was a foolish idea, and was surprised the man had liked it at all.

"Two left!" Marigold announced. "Do you want the big one or the little one next?"

"Oh, let's go for the big one!" Charles laughed. "Why not?"

Marigold placed a perfectly square, flat gift in his hands. "The tag says it's from Elsie," she said shyly.

Charles looked at the package and then at Elsie. He was fairly certain he knew what he'd find under the sparkling paper in which she'd wrapped the gift, but he was _also_ fairly certain that she knew he'd not be able to use it.

"Go ahead," she said, a smile on her lovely, red lips. "Open it."

He did as she asked, peeling the paper away to reveal – _yes, I'd thought so_ – a vinyl record.

" _Unforgettable,"_ he read, looking up at his family. "Nat King Cole. But, Elsie …"

"It's a bit more recent than the others," Elsie interrupted, confusing him slightly, "but I know how much you love him."

"I do, but …"

"But you don't have any way to play it? Yes, I know," she said, patting his arm. "But you will once we get home."

She smiled brilliantly at him, and his jaw dropped.

"You bought me a turntable?" he said. He was stunned; they'd discussed the merits of vinyl versus compact discs and digital downloads only once, _months_ ago. He couldn't believe she'd remembered it, even.

"No," she admitted, biting down on her lip.

"But you said … now I'm thoroughly confused," he said, cocking his head.

"I bought you a gramophone," she admitted. "And a few more albums."

"A _what?_ As in an _actual gramophone?_ From the 1920s?"

She nodded, and Violet raised an eyebrow at her from across the room, winking when Elsie caught her eye. _Very well done, Elsie,_ the look said.

"It'll be delivered tomorrow, along with the albums, and John Bates has agreed to set it up. I hope you don't mind. Anna does have the key, as we'd asked her to keep an eye on the houses while we were gone."

He just shook his head. "Not at all," he said, leaning over for a kiss. "Thank you."

Elsie reached her hands out and placed them on his cheeks, kissing him sweetly as she felt everyone's eyes on them. "Happy Birthday," she whispered, and he kissed her again before breaking away.

"I cannot believe you all, truly," Charles said, simply feeling blown over by the thoughtfulness of all of the gifts.

"Here," Daisy said, handing him the last remaining box. "It's from Violet," she added, and he nodded.

"Yes, I suspected as much," he smiled.

The box was small, and he unwrapped it to uncover what appeared to be a ring box. He looked to Violet in question, but she gave a minute shake of her head.

 _Open it,_ her eyes said, and he complied.

When he spied the contents of the box, Charles plopped back unceremoniously against the sofa's cushions, looking as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Charles?" Elsie asked quietly. "Darling, what is it?"

He showed her the open box, his quivering bottom lip rendering any speech impossible for the moment. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, and Elsie examined the ring set in the velvet box.

"It's a crest," she said. "But … oh, _Violet,"_ she gushed, looking up at the older woman. "Is this …?"

Violet nodded, and Elsie noticed Cora reach out to grasp Robert's hand, where she saw for the first time that he bore an identical ring on his own finger.

"It's the Crawley family crest," Charles managed to utter.

Elsie closed her eyes, biting down on her lip to keep herself from crying. "Of course it is."

Violet cleared her throat and grasped the table beside her as she spoke.

"You came into my son's life at a time when, I'm not ashamed to say, he sorely needed a friend. Over the course of a great many years, you cemented yourself as a part of this family – the brother that Robert never had, and another son to me. It's high time we _recognized_ that, and what better time than the day on which we mark the halfway point of your life?"

Charles slid the ring onto his finger, smiling at how it fit perfectly. He rose and crossed over to Violet, drawing her into a hug.

"Thank you for this," he whispered, so that only she could hear. "And for everything else."

Violet backed away from him, and kept her voice at an equally soft whisper.

"This is a turning point for us both," she said meaningfully. "I feel that, for the first time, I don't have to watch out for you anymore." She raised an eyebrow, and Charles just smiled.

"Perhaps you don't," he replied, shooting a brief glance Elsie's way.

"Work on that, will you?" Violet teased, and Charles laughed.

"I feel like you're all on a common mission this week," he whispered. "But I _shall_ work on it, I can promise you that." He leaned down and placed a kiss to her cheek.

"Good. You're a man of your word, Charles Carson. Just don't take too long."

Charles looked around the room at those who were gathered with him.

"I am a very lucky man, indeed, to be surrounded by so many lovely people that I have the privilege to call my family." He smiled as Daisy yawned widely, and watched as she scooted over toward Elsie, who put her arm around the girl and hugged her. It was a small action that spoke volumes about the amazing turn his life had taken six months ago, and he had to shake his head to refocus.

"I cannot thank you enough for all of this, truly. It's no secret that Daisy and I had a rather traumatic time of it last year, but I think we've turned a corner of sorts – due in no small part to the wonderful place that Misty Cove is."

"Hear, hear," Edith said, and Marigold nodded her agreement.

Charles reached for his glass and held it aloft.

"I know it's _my_ birthday, but I propose a toast to all of _you._ I thank you for the love and support you've always given me, and it is my deepest wish that we all spend a great many _more_ years in one another's lives."

"Cheers," Robert said, raising his glass, and the others followed suit.

"Cheers," Daisy said clearly.

Charles looked lovingly at his little girl, still wrapped in Elsie's half-embrace, and blew her a kiss.

"Cheers," he said, tilting his glass at her.

* * *

 ** _tbc ... I hope it lived up to your expectations - particularly to my "tap-tap-tap on the shoulder" friend. x_**


	22. Saving Each Other

**A/N: A shorter update today, for getting some info out there that really had to be covered.**

 **To those of you who are snowed in, please stay safe! xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

The rest of the week passed quietly, providing a welcome vacation for Elsie. Had she been home, she'd have found a multitude of things to do on the farm; being in England, however, she'd read three books, had napped twice, and she and Charles had walked miles, hand in hand, along the shoveled paths of the Crawley estate. She felt rested and rejuvenated, two things she rarely felt following the February school vacation week.

She was smiling about this very thing when her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her fireside musings. She put her book face-down in her lap and reached for the device, swiping it to see a text from Charles:

 _On our way._

She quickly texted back:

 _Did you have fun?_

He took a moment to reply, and she wondered if he'd just gotten in the car. But, no, after about five minutes her phone buzzed again, twice; she couldn't believe it - Charles never sent more than six words at a time, but she was looking at a paragraph that came in two separate chunks:

 _(1) It was interesting. Office things worked out fine, but change in plans. I need a drink, I can say that. Had lunch at a lovely pub. D and I just_

 _(2) left the museum and will be about half an hour before we are back at the house. I'm tired, and you and I need to talk. Alone._

Elsie's brow furrowed. Charles had been at a meeting to look into selling his law firm, after which he'd taken Daisy to lunch and then to their favorite museum so that they could spend some father/daughter time together. But his message made it seem like something bad had happened.

 _Is everything alright?_ she quickly typed back.

 _Yes, I think so._

 _Okay,_ she replied quickly. _I'll be waiting, and we have brandy. :)_

She put her phone aside and stood up to stretch, then made her way to the kitchen to fetch a snack. She found some biscuits and plated them up, then brought them back upstairs and set them on the side table, directly next to the brandy set-up.

Somehow, she had a feeling they'd be talking for a while.

* * *

True to his word, Charles was back in about half an hour. She heard the small commotion downstairs as Daisy and Marigold found one another and headed off to play video games. Charles's footsteps were slow coming down the hallway, and he courteously knocked softly on the door to their suite before opening it and letting himself in.

He turned to lock it, though, and that was what made Elsie suspicious. She stood and headed over to where he was standing by the door.

"Charles, what is it? _Has_ something bad happened?"

He met her eyes and extended his hands, which she grasped in her own before kissing the back of his knuckles.

"No, everything is fine, actually … I think."

"But you said you needed a drink, and that we had to talk. That didn't sound _good,_ Charles."

She moved to the table and poured two snifters of brandy, then handed him one and pointed to the sofa by the fire. "Sit," she commanded, and he obeyed with a smirk. "Now, talk."

Charles took a slow sip of his drink, mulling over where to start.

"Business or personal?" he asked, putting the decision in her hands.

"Start with the business, I think," she said slowly. _Personal? What on Earth ...?_

"Well," he began, "He's interested. _Very_ interested, actually. He has a silent investor and has made me an offer - a rather generous one at that."

"Really? Charles, that's _wonderful!_ This is the new solicitor that started before you left?" She remembered Charles talking about him, a smart young man named Kent, she thought. "Ambitious, I recall you saying."

"Yes, but he's truly done well. He said he has the funds, and we talked details. He'd like to have it done by the end of the month, Elsie."

"Are you kidding?" she gasped. "Are you even ready for that?"

He pursed his lips, staring into the fire for a moment before he answered.

"I think so, yes," he said softly. He turned toward her and rested his hand on the sofa between them, palm side up, and she placed her own inside his, smiling when he squeezed her fingers as he continued.

"It would be a quick retirement, although he and his investor would like to consider opening a new branch in Boston, and having me available as a consultant on cases of a trickier nature, perhaps assisting if they needed an extra man on deck. But basically, yes, I'd be fully retired."

"Well, that _is_ something," Elsie mused. "Whatever would you do?"

He mulled over his answer, finding that he still had yet to consider all the possibilites. "I haven't even thought that far ahead, really - no time. I like the idea of being able to attend all of Daisy's school things, of being able to be on holiday when the two of you are off, not having to worry about whether or not I'm working on a case; that freedom is certainly a great bonus to the situation. I could take up a hobby, I suppose - walk more, perhaps see what volunteer opportunities there are in Misty Cove." He laughed, a short, bark of a noise that made Elsie jump a bit. "I never thought I'd retire at fifty, that's for sure! But the offer is too generous, and I'd be a fool to turn it down. I'd never _need_ to work again."

"And they plan to do all this by the end of this month? How could that even happen?" Elsie enquired.

"Well, that's the tricky part," he hedged, and she waited patiently as he got up and refilled both their glasses.

"Oh, I don't think I should," Elsie protested, but he shoved the glass in her hand anyhow.

"No, trust me, you'll need it," he answered cryptically, so she acquiesced. She leaned back into the corner of the sofa and pulled up her legs, crossing them in front of her as she cradled the snifter in her hands.

"Okay," she said slowly.

"They'd like me to stay into next week," he said, sitting back down. "More than likely, I'd be here until at least Thursday, perhaps longer."

"Oh!" Elsie exclaimed. "But Daisy …?"

Charles nodded, anticipating her concern. "Yes, Daisy will need to return for school. That is snag number one."

"And she wants to stay with Marigold, I presume? Which I am sure Edith wouldn't mind at all, if you asked her. I'd be surprised if the girls aren't already plotting it, assuming Daisy knows what you've told me."

"She knows, but I'm not sure if that will be possible."

"Oh?" Elsie was getting more and more confused as the minutes ticked by. "Is everything alright? I haven't even seen Edith today, now that you mention it …"

"I'm sure you haven't - Daisy said she's not been feeling very well, which is why I'm not sure having Daisy around her would be a good idea. I was wondering … well," he hedged, "I was wondering if Daisy could return and stay with _you."_

"Oh! Um, yes, of course." Elsie flitted through details in her mind: _spare room, appointment on Wednesday, same schedule, I'll have Anna stock the kitchen …_

"Are you sure?" Charles looked decidedly _unsure,_ and she chuckled softly, reaching out to lay her hand on his knee.

"Of _course_ I'm sure," she said softly. "It makes sense, really, as she'd have been coming over for therapy on Wednesday anyhow. And we're obviously on the same school schedule. Did you discuss it with her at all?"

"Actually," he said with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, "it was her idea."

"Really?" Elsie beamed, a sense of pride filling her chest that Daisy would want to spend a week with her when Charles was an ocean away.

"It was," he said. "Although I am afraid _that_ now steers us into the second bit of this conversation."

He looked decidedly uncomfortable, fiddling with a bit of lint on his knee as Elsie nibbled on her lip. "Go on, then," she finally encouraged him, thoroughly confused now as to what she was missing.

Charles took a deep breath before looking back into her eyes. She spotted a softness in his own, and tilted her head as she contemplated it.

"Edith isn't feeling well because she's _pregnant,_ Els."

Elsie's face lit up and a smile emerged on her lips ... but Charles couldn't miss the flicker of sadness that passed through her eyes just before it happened, some ghost of a thing that she, perhaps, thought had been long-since laid to rest.

"Well," she breathed, shaking her head slightly, "that certainly didn't take long! They must be so very, very happy."

"I think so," Charles hedged.

But then Elsie thought of something. "Wait … but how did _you_ know?"

"From Daisy, who got it from Marigold," he said, a bit uncomfortable now. "Evidently they had quite the discussion the night before last," he added in a murmur, a blush now creeping up his neck and over his cheeks, turning the tips of his ears bright red.

"About the baby?" Elsie asked.

"Well, y- yes," he stammered, "and, more specifically, how it got there."

At that, Elsie threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Charles! Oh, goodness, you poor thing! And Daisy asked _you_ for details, of course."

He nodded, a sheepish look on his face.

"Wait ... do you mean you'd never _explained_ any of that to her before?" She shook her head, a look of mirth now in her eyes as she contemplated her gentle love of a man.

He looked at her with something akin to horror on his face. "Elsie! She's eight years old!"

"Almost nine," Elsie reminded him. "Oh, Charles … they're finding out about it all so much younger these days, you know. With television and movies," she said, shaking her head. "Did she truly not know?"

"She knew _some_ things," he explained. "Very vague things, mind you, about how when two people love each other and decide to have a child, they are sometimes blessed by one, and …" he trailed off. "No, she didn't know the specifics. She does now, though, or most of it anyhow."

Elsie stretched her legs out and placed her feet in his lap. He absentmindedly began to rub them, causing her to lean her head back and moan in delight.

"That feels remarkable," she purred, and he smiled.

"Good, I'm glad one of us is comfortable," he said, taking another sip of his drink before placing the glass on the side table. "Because there's more to my mortification, Elsie." He tilted his chin at her drink. "Bottoms up."

She complied with questioning grin, then passed him her glass so that he could place it with his own. And then the penny dropped, and she sat bolt upright and gasped.

"Oh my God!" she whispered, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. It was her turn to blush, Charles noted with some small trace of satisfaction.

"Yes, she has managed to put _that_ together as well," he said, shaking his head.

Elsie nodded _very_ slowly, swallowed a couple of times, and ventured, "You mean … " She pointed to Charles and back at herself. "She asked if we … oh, my _God,_ Charles!" she repeated, and he laughed a bit.

"I think that was the look I had," he said, a smirk on his lips as he pointed to her face. "Mind you, she doesn't have _all_ the details of how it all goes, but she knows enough of them."

"And here we are, sharing a bed with her down the hall," she whispered. "Oh, remind me to _kill_ Violet for suggesting this!"

"I don't think it's been _that_ bad, really," Charles muttered. "I think it's been rather lovely."

"Well, yes, but ... Oh, Charles," she said, shaking her head to clear it, "what did she _say?_ I suppose that's what's really important, and not me sitting here trying to contemplate facing your daughter now she knows I've been doing _those types of things_ with her dear Papa!"

He placed Elsie's feet on the floor and scooted over to her, putting his arm around her shoulder as she tucked herself in next to his body. He reached over to take her hand in his and he kissed it slowly, then placed it back in her lap, not letting go.

"She wasn't upset, Elsie. In fact … well … she wanted to know if _we_ would be having a baby as well," he said gently, knowing there was no easy way out of it all now.

Elsie looked up at him, and her eyes filled, a sad smile on her lips. "Of course she did," she whispered, rolling her eyes lightly. "And why wouldn't she? Charlie, what did you tell her?"

"I told her that you are not pregnant," he said. "I didn't explain anything about it, but told her that wasn't something we were ready for. I didn't worry about whether or not it was even a possibility at the moment, but I had to tell her something, and that seemed to appease her."

Elsie's teeth clamped down on her lip tightly, and she nodded. "Good," she said, sniffling. "That's good."

Charles's heart broke as he watched her thoughts play out so plainly on her face. He reached up and cupped her chin, drawing her in for a soft kiss and then pulling back slowly.

"Elsie," he said quietly, pushing her tears away with his thumb.

She shook her head. "Don't," she pleaded. "Don't pity me, Charles. I'll be _fine_ with Edith. I presume she'll be telling the family before we leave?"

He nodded.

"Alright, then," she said, taking a deep breath.

Charles dreaded what he had to ask next, but knew there was no way out of it. He had to be sure they were on the same page, that they possessed the same information should Daisy begin asking questions again.

"Elsie, love ... well … we haven't exactly been _careful_. Is there a _possibility_ that …"

She looked up and saw only a deep, honest questioning in his eyes. She didn't see a trace of pity or sorrow for her difficult past, and for that she was grateful.

"It's _extremely_ unlikely, given my history," she said sadly.

And then a thought occurred to her, a thought so simple in nature that she'd no idea how she had never considered it before. "Oh, Charles," she whispered, "do you _want_ another child?"

He took in her appearance: the red splotches on her chest, from emotion mixed with leftover embarrassment, the teary eyes, the lips now puffy and red from crying and from her merciless niggling. He reached out slowly and took a loose strand of her hair, tucking it gently behind her ear.

"I never did before," he said. "It just didn't make sense, really - we never even expected to have _Daisy,_ of course, and then it was clear that she'd be an only child. Not my choice, but I understood completely."

"And now?" she whispered, the sadness in her eyes crushing his heart.

Charles pulled her in close and wrapped his arms tightly around her, kissing her head as he held her.

"I think you know how I feel about you, Elsie," he began, murmuring into her hair and feeling the minute nod of her head. "I entered into this relationship with you having no expectations of that, none at all, given what you have been through. But it would be a lie to say that, if we were given the chance, it would not make me happy."

"And given that it will _not_ be happening, most likely? Can you still be happy with me?" she asked, tightening her grip on his torso, fearful of his answer. "Because clearly I was not meant to be a mother," she whispered.

"I disagree," he murmured, loosening his hold on her and tilting her head up so that she would be forced to meet his gaze again. "I think you are already proving that you have the mettle to be an _excellent_ one. Not all mothers give birth to their children, Elsie," he added, leaning down to drop a kiss to her quivering lips.

"I am happy with _you,_ Els. _You_ are what I want. The rest? Well, I say we leave it in the hands of God and see what happens. Because if there's any one thing I do know, it's that I'm not going anywhere. Not for as long as you'll have me."

Elsie moved out of his embrace and shifted her body, straddling him as she drew his head and shoulders into her embrace. She knew he could hear the accelerated beating of her heart, and she carded her fingers through his hair before kissing his head repeatedly.

"I am so thankful for you, Charles. Every day. For your kindness, and your understanding. For your love, and - most of all - for your accepting me just as I am, for not asking me to be anything other than this imperfect person who now holds you in her arms," she said tearfully.

He squeezed her tightly and sighed. "You were brought into my life for a reason, Elsie - I truly believe that." He leaned back to look into her eyes, his hands dropping and clasping loosely at the small of her back. "We're none of us perfect, love. For all that you've just said, you should know that it is _you_ who have saved _me."_

"Well," she said quietly, leaning in for another kiss, "perhaps we've saved each other."

* * *

 _ **A/N: Please leave a little review if you feel so inclined. x**_


	23. Other People's Secrets

**Not quite on our Elsie/Daisy time yet - next chapter, though, will be the trip back to the States!  
**

 **Enjoy, everyone! With MoOL being finished I will have more time to devote here.**

 **Thanks to brenna-louise for the proofreading! :)**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Friday, February 20, 2015**_

Elsie was half-packed on Friday morning for her flight with Daisy the next afternoon. She'd left out a few things to wear, but managed to squeeze most everything else in her suitcase. She'd purchased a few souvenirs while they were away, but had been smart enough to bring an extra carry-on for them.

"I can take those in mine if you want." Charles's voice startled her, and she looked up to see him standing in the bathroom doorway, pointing at the gifts that were sitting beside her suitcase.

She gasped softly, the now-familiar feeling of desire settling low in her abdomen as she took in his appearance: towel wrapped around his waist, droplets of water sparkling on the hair of his chest, and him furiously drying his hair with a second, smaller towel.

"Something wrong, Els?" he smirked, knowing full well what was 'wrong' as he tossed the towel on the counter.

"Well," Elsie said, slowly walking over to him. "Don't you look rather … delicious?"

He laughed, then reached out for her hand, which she readily gave him. He tugged her toward his body quickly, and she wrapped her hands over the edges of the towel at his waist, tucking her thumbs underneath it and gently scratching his skin in the process.

"Elsie," he warned her. "We're expected at breakfast in -" He glanced at the clock. "- thirty-five minutes. And _you_ still need to shower," he reminded her.

"I can shower and be ready in ten," she challenged him, already loosening the towel and dropping it to the floor.

He smiled broadly and kissed her rather forcefully, pushing her across the room and onto the bed. She laughed, then immediately quieted her voice lest they be overheard.

"Challenge accepted," he said, reaching for the hem of her nightgown.

"Oh, thank God," she murmured, her lips and tongue already at his neck. "I really thought you'd turn me down."

"Funny." Then his eyes shot open, and she smiled as he realized she wasn't wearing anything _underneath_ the gown.

"You little _minx,"_ he whispered. "You put them back on last night, I _watched_ you."

The smart-ass reply she meant to utter flew from her mind as his wandering hand quickly found its target destination, causing her to moan rather loudly before he slid her back further on the bed and settled in between her knees, his gentle ministrations having ensured she was more than ready.

Elsie reached out and pulled him closer, quick to welcome his body within hers as she closed her eyes, her pleasure clearly written on her face.

"I love you," he said meaningfully, and she opened her eyes to look in his own, his gaze intense and full of feeling, full of _love_. She reached up and gently held his face in her hands.

"I know," she whispered, moving her hips to encourage him.

Slow movements quickly turned frantic, the limited time they had driving them with an intensity they'd rarely experienced before. After a couple of minutes Charles reached for her calf, gently moving it to bend her knee more.

"Oh, Christ," she murmured, " _Yes."_

The slight change of angle produced the desired result and she quickly fell over the edge, moaning and panting loudly as she dug her fingertips into his back. The sharp prick of her fingernails was all he needed to follow immediately after her, and he managed by some small miracle to keep from shouting out.

He collapsed next to her on the bed, then lifted himself up on his elbow, chin in his hand, and Elsie tilted her head a bit for a kiss.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and he laughed.

"Well," he said breathlessly, "that was something."

"Mmm. I'm going to miss this," she said, reaching her hand out and brushing her fingers down his arm. "Making love every day, sleeping in your arms every night."

"I know," he sighed. "And I'm sorry I have to stay here for an extra five days."

"It's alright - _don't_ be," she reassured him. "I'm happy for you, glad you have a chance to take care of everything so quickly. That's a godsend, truly. And we don't live together," she reminded him unnecessarily. "This was just an amazing little detour from our normal lives."

"Well," he said hesitantly, "perhaps we might want to consider discussing that when I get back."

Elsie's eyes widened a bit. "Really? You'd move in with me? Because I couldn't leave the farm, Charles. Someone has to live on premises or it's not fair to the animals."

"I know," he said softly. "But, if we could …"

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Would you have room for one piano?" he asked, smiling.

Elsie rolled onto her side and kissed him soundly, pulling away before they got too distracted.

"I do have that third bedroom," she said. "Now, on that note, I have ..." She peeked over his shoulder at the bedside clock. "... eleven minutes to get ready." She jumped off the bed and grabbed her clothes from the pile she'd left on the chair.

"Best hurry then," he teased. "But, Els … do think about it when you get back. Please."

She reached out her hand, and their fingertips grasped one another's.

"I will," she promised.

* * *

Charles, Elsie, and Daisy spent their last afternoon in Yorkshire horseback riding. Charles hadn't been riding in quite a while, but Elsie and Daisy twisted his arm until he agreed.

"The trails through the woods are too icy," Robert warned, "but you should be fine if you stick to the cleared pathways through the fields of the estate."

"Sounds good," Elsie said as she mounted the horse to which she'd been assigned. She then turned to Daisy. "Ready?"

"You bet!"

They spent about an hour and a half meandering all around the estate. Daisy was itching to ride faster but knew it wasn't safe for the horse with the potential for ice underneath the snow.

Elsie moved up ahead, letting Charles and Daisy spend some time chatting amongst themselves before she and Daisy had to leave. She marveled at how nonplussed Daisy seemed to be about leaving her Papa, but worried that once they were on the plane and taking off that it would become harder for the poor girl. She'd never been away from her father for more than a few days, and _never_ without family to stay with.

 _And you're not quite family yet,_ Elsie reminded herself. _Almost … but not quite._

"Elsie!" Charles called eventually.

She stopped the horse and turned, and saw him waving at her from quite far back.

"We're heading in!" he called, and she gave him a thumbs-up sign. She expected them to precede her back to the house but, instead, they waited.

"You didn't have to wait for me," she said when she reached them, but Charles shook his head.

"Daisy insisted. Making sure we all stay safe, or some such thing," he teased, winking at his little girl.

"'Don't ride alone, especially somewhere you're not familiar with or on a horse you don't know,'" Daisy recited. "Elsie's never ridden Shadow, and she doesn't know these trails that well."

Elsie was touched, not only because Daisy remembered the words she'd said to her months ago, but that she was clearly using the advice to protect _Elsie_ now _._

"Thank you, Daisy," she said with a smile. "I appreciate that."

Charles's heart swelled as he watched the exchange between them.

 _My girls._

* * *

Cora pulled out all the stops for dinner, and even hired a chef to make an amazing five-course meal. She was in the kitchen consulting with her when Charles found them.

"Don't you even start," Cora said when Charles teased her about it. He slung his arm over her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.

"I know," he said fondly. "You've got us three _plus_ both your girls here, and you mean to enjoy it." He kissed her head as she nodded, and squeezed her again as she brushed a tear from her eye.

"Now don't _you_ start," he teased, "because then Elsie will start, and then Edith, and then you'll have a real mess on your hands," he added in a whisper, and she chuckled.

"What's this?" Robert said, coming around the corner into the kitchen. "Hey, mister - get your hands off my wife!"

Charles broke away quickly, hands in the air. "Sorry, mate! But _you_ left her unattended!" he joked.

Robert laughed and clapped Charles on the back. "I know, I know … neglectful husband, that's me."

"Hardly," Cora said, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

"I'll be in the dining room," Charles said. "You kids take all the time you need."

"Cheeky devil, that one," Robert joked, turning around to kiss his wife.

"But you love me!" Charles called, narrowly avoiding the towel that Cora chucked his way.

"What's all that?" Elsie asked. "Are you causing trouble for our gracious hosts?"

Charles pulled out her chair. "Every spare minute that I can," he quipped as she sat down. He took a seat next to her and poured their wine.

Elsie sighed deeply and looked around the table.

"You alright, Els?" he murmured in her ear, and she nodded.

"I'm wonderful, actually. This whole week, Charles - this _family_. It's … well, it's rather a new experience for me," she said, keeping her voice quiet so as not to be overheard by the others. "You all have such an amazing bond, full of love and friendship and camaraderie. I never knew that growing up, and certainly never had it as an adult. It's truly remarkable."

He reached for her hand under the table and squeezed it gently, then placed it on his leg. "It is. I take it for granted sometimes, but I do know how amazing it really is."

Just then, Cora and Robert came into the dining room and took their places at the ends of the table as the first course was served.

Dinner was a slow affair, taking over two hours as various courses were brought in and empty dishes cleared, served with wine pairings that impressed Charles - including one he'd never even heard of from a vineyard that Robert and Cora had visited recently, only ten kilometers from the estate.

Eventually, though, yawns were stifled and conversation dwindled. Charles checked his 'new' watch for the time.

"Oh! It's nearly half ten! I think some children need to head up to bed," he advised, and everyone giggled as Daisy yawned widely as if on cue.

"I'll bring them up," Edith said. "I'm completely exhausted myself and I still need to pack in the morning." She rose from the table as the girls said their goodnights to everyone.

"I suggest the rest of us retire to the library for a nightcap," Robert suggested.

"A splendid idea," Richard answered.

Elsie silently congratulated herself for not rolling her eyes in exasperation, having managed to hold her tongue throughout dinner as the man had spewed vitriolic comments about everything from education to politics. He'd even made vague references to his wife's weakness when it came to running their paper as it _should_ be run, alluding to the fact that she let certain deadlines slide and allowed a few accounts to go overdue. Elsie had noticed Robert open his mouth to argue at that last one, but Cora's not-so-gentle squeeze of his forearm had stopped him, no doubt saving everyone a good deal of embarrassment.

At midnight, though, even the rest of the party had to admit defeat. Hugs were given and everyone meandered up to their own rooms.

But as soon as Elsie and Charles reached their room, she swore softly.

"What is it, Els?"

"Oh, I left my damn phone downstairs," she muttered. "It must be in the library, I'll be back in a minute."

"Do you want me to go?" Charles offered.

"No, I'll only be a moment," she said, toeing off her shoes.

Elsie padded down the corridor and hurried down the massive staircase, then headed into the library where she located her phone, which had fallen behind one of the sofa pillows.

"There you are," she muttered, tucking it into her back pocket.

She walked back more slowly, the quiet of the downstairs settling her nerves from the somewhat loud dinner and after-dinner drinks they'd all shared. She took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the portraits, and she ran her fingertips over the scrolling woodwork of the banisters.

Just as she crested the top of the staircase, however, she heard voices - mumbled, angry voices, she thought, and she tiptoed down the rug in her stocking-clad feet so as not to be heard.

"Just shut up," she heard Richard growl, followed by a bump. "You don't have a leg to stand on and you know it."

"Let … me ... go," Mary hissed, and Elsie stopped dead in her tracks, a cold feeling of dread running throughout her entire body.

"You're going to do _exactly_ what I tell you, my darling wife," he slurred, "or else."

"Go ahead and tell them, I don't even _care_ anymore!"

"We both know that's a lie, though, don't we?"

 _What the hell?_ Elsie didn't move a muscle, torn between her desire to break up whatever was going on, her need to _know_ what was going on, and a decades-old instinct that kept telling her to stay completely still and silent lest her presence be discovered.

The sound of a whimper pulled her out of her thoughts, though, and she rushed over to where the voices were coming from, discovering that Richard had Mary pinned behind one of the pillars that lined the corridor. He was grasping her arm tightly in one hand and twisting it at a painful looking angle, and Elsie could easily see that Mary wasn't going anywhere anytime soon unless someone distracted Richard.

He hadn't spotted Elsie at all, but Mary had. Her eyes widened slightly as she tried to send Elsie a silent _No,_ but Elsie was having none of it. She saw Richard raise his hand and she growled, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Richard whipped around, letting Mary's arm go. She slumped slightly against the column, eyes closed, and she let out a sigh as she rubbed her arm.

"Mind your own business, bitch," Richard warned Elsie, clearly trying to scare her.

"Right now, Mary _is_ my business," she said, managing to keep calm. "And I'd think even _you_ would know better than to treat her so horribly in her parents' home. Don't you keep this sort of behavior confined to your own?"

Richard's eyes blazed and Elsie wondered if she really _should_ have kept her mouth shut. She took a step backwards, and noticed a familiar shape out of the corner of her eye.

"Go ahead," she seethed at Richard. "Touch me. It wouldn't be the first time a man has hit me, but I warn you ... I fight back."

Richard made a quick move to grab her just as Charles's blurred form nearly tackled him, knocking him to the ground.

"Lay one hand on either of them and you won't have to worry about Elsie, because _I'll_ fucking kill you," Charles whispered, remaining perfectly calm as he stood over Richard's now prostrate form.

" _She_ threatened _me,"_ Richard sneered, "or did you miss that bit?" He turned his attention back to Elsie. "We all know why you _really_ want Charlie here, don't we? Nice rich Englishman, sweet little girl. Ready-made family now, isn't it?"

"Shut the hell up," Elsie spat back at him. "You don't know a goddamn thing about me." The conversation was vaguely familiar, and she wondered somewhere in the back of her mind if it had been Mary's thought originally, or her husband's.

"Oh, you'd be surprised what I know about people," Richard said, getting back on his feet, albeit backing away from Charles in the process.

"Really?" Elsie asked. "And I'm supposed to be afraid of you, am I? You may think you have your wife trapped into staying with you, but you've got nothing on me."

Richard moved toward Mary who, to her credit, didn't flinch. "Let's go," he said to her.

"Screw you," Mary said. "You can sleep in one of the empty rooms tonight - I don't want to see you again until you're sober." She shoved him aside and walked down the hall to her room.

Charles, Elsie, and Richard watched as she went into the bedroom, only to return momentarily and toss Richard's pajamas, robe, toothbrush, and shaving kit onto the floor.

"There," she added. "That ought to do." She re-entered the room and shut the door, and they all heard the lock click.

Richard walked past Elsie, giving Charles a rather wide berth, and gathered up his things. He started to head down the hallway, then turned and stared at Elsie.

"Be sure to tell Becky I said hello," he said quietly, and Charles watched as the blood drained from Elsie's face.

"Don't," Charles whispered, and Elsie nodded.

Richard laughed and headed down to the room across from his wife's. "Good night," they heard him call tauntingly, just before he closed the door.

Charles said nothing, just reached out and took Elsie's hand.

"Come on," he said, tugging her hand gently.

"Alright," she whispered, and she let Charles lead her back to their room as she tried to rein in her thoughts.

Charles closed the door to their room and turned to find Elsie sitting on their bed, tears streaming down her face. He sat next to her, and wrapped his arm around her as she wept silently. He gave her a few minutes, then handed her a handkerchief.

"Care to explain all of this to me?" he asked. "And what the _hell_ was that crack about Becky? Has he ever met her?"

"Not to my knowledge - that was so odd," she said, fear written in her eyes before she blinked it away.

"I'll say. It would be worthwhile to call the home, perhaps, see if he's ever visited there."

"Why did you come?" Elsie asked suddenly, confusing him for a moment. "Did you come looking for me?" she added.

"I did. You were gone a rather long time, and I thought you couldn't find your phone. I was coming down to help you when I stumbled upon that madness. Elsie," he said, his voice a low but controlled rumble … for now. "What on Earth did you think you were doing?"

"Sorry?" she gasped, incredulous. "I thought I was keeping that bastard from harming your niece!" She scoffed, then added, "She's _really_ going to hate me now. She was mortified."

Charles sighed and took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "I know she's not kind to you, Els, and that's unforgivable. But he really could have harmed you! You can't just jump into a situation like that."

Elsie pulled her hands from his and stood up to move away from him. She paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, clenching and unclenching her hands in front of her waist as she figured out how to say what she needed to say without completely going off on him.

"Charles," she began slowly, "I know what that was going to turn into. I grew up seeing that sort of thing every day of my life. Richard may not be beating her, exactly, but he's obviously got some sort of ridiculous hold on her. He was clearly causing her pain, and I heard him threaten to blow some secret of hers if she wasn't … _obedient,_ shall we say?"

"What did he want her to do?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she replied, shaking her head as she stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Charles, I can't let any woman experience that, not if I have a chance to intervene. I'm glad you were there to end the situation, but I'd have punched and clawed the shit out of him if he'd touched me. Don't you ever doubt that I can protect myself, Charles."

"I don't," he said, his voice quiet and his palms extended out in an attempt to calm her as he contemplated this new, agitated Elsie who stood before him.

"I'm sorry that I frightened you," she said, moving over to him again. She stood between his knees and Charles wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in until her head rested on his.

"It's alright," he murmured. "But now I really wish I'd punched him," he added, and Elsie laughed softly.

"I hope you never need to do that, but I love that you want to."

"Can I draw you a bath?" Charles asked, and she shook her head.

"No, I just want to go to bed."

"You go first," Charles said, tilting his head toward the bathroom.

"Thanks," she whispered.

When she returned, Charles had gotten the fire going in the hearth and had turned down the bed.

"I rather like those boxers," Elsie murmured.

"They match your eyes," he answered, and she laughed. "I'll be right back."

Elsie took a few cleansing breaths and then peeled off her sweater and jeans. She folded them haphazardly and tossed them onto the top of her suitcase, adding her brassiere to the top of the pile. She went to get a nightgown and then remembered she'd accidentally packed them all that morning.

"Oh, fuck it," she whispered, and got into bed.

Charles came out and shut the light off, then climbed in beside her. Elsie said nothing, just moved over to make room for him.

Charles leaned over her and brushed her hair off of her face.

"I love you, Elsie," he whispered. "So very, very much. I was frightened tonight, terrified that he'd hurt you. I'd have killed him, I think - truly."

She reached up and ran her fingertips through his hair, then down his cheek and jaw before brushing them over his lips. He kissed each one, then grasped them in his hand.

"I believe you would have," she said, "and I'm so glad you didn't."

She rolled over on her side and Charles cuddled up behind her. He stretched his arm under her pillow and she snuggled in, comforted by the feel of his chest - his heartbeat - against her back. His laid his other arm across her waist and she wrapped her own arm around it, squeezing him in a hug.

"Can you sleep?" he murmured, and she nodded.

"Like this? Absolutely."

He squeezed her again and kissed her temple. "Good. Sweet dreams, love."

"You, too."

* * *

 **A little review would make my day! And I've updated on my phone, so pardon any typos, please.**


	24. It Costs Me Nothing to Say It

**A/N: This one is not beta checked, so I do hope it makes sense. I did feel as though I had to beat it into submission, and would be remiss in not thanking a slew of gals who listened to me bitch about it and offered kind words of advice via DM's, chats, texts, etc. You know who you are - Yay for fandom friends!**

 **Transition chapter here, which is why I had trouble with it. No more Carlisles yet, we'll leave them be for a bit. I have taken into account the four death requests for R. Carlisle and the two for Mary. Just saying, I have a plan for them. :)**

 **Lots of drama to come, but this chapter is all feels. Thanks to all who continue to read and review and blow me away with your kindness.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Saturday, February 21, 2015**_

Elsie and Daisy were scheduled to fly out of Heathrow at 17:30, bound for Boston and then connecting on to Portland. Anna had agreed to pick them up in Portland and bring them home, and Elsie was already dreading the long voyage.

Charles had finished packing up Daisy's things, and he and Elsie had agreed to pack most of the extra items they'd purchased while in England into his suitcase; that way, Elsie wouldn't be helping Daisy with her bag _plus_ have an extra carry-on to manage. They brought everything downstairs and then enjoyed a quiet luncheon with Edith and Marigold before heading to the airport.

"I have no idea how you're going to function at work on Monday," Elsie told her friend. Cora had set up a buffet on the sideboard - simple sandwiches, salad, and some bite-sized desserts after a week full of rich food and drink - and Elsie was helping herself to a couple of the mini brownies.

Edith slumped down a bit in her chair. "I know," she grumbled, rubbing the heel of her hand on her forehead. "I have _no_ idea what possessed me to schedule a Sunday return flight, really. But it _is_ earlier on in the day, so that should help. I hope."

"You know that I'll do what I can at work to help you. When are you planning to tell the staff about the baby?"

"I think I'll wait another month or so. That is, of course, unless I continue to be ill, which case they'll all figure it out."

Elsie nodded as she sat down. "Yes, or at least the more observant ones would. Phyllis would figure it out for sure, but she'd never tell anyhow."

"I can't wait to get home to Bertie," Edith sighed.

"How is he?" Charles asked.

"He's doing wonderfully, thanks. Been busy with work, and ..." She glanced over to see what Marigold was doing, but the girls were thankfully wrapped up in a game in the corner of the room. Still, she lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's finished Marigold's room. She wanted it painted green, of all things, and he did it as a surprise while we were away."

"Aw, how lovely," Elsie said quietly. "He really is as wonderful as he sounds, isn't he?"

"He really is," Edith agreed. "Much like someone else I can think of," she added, smiling at her uncle.

Charles puffed out his chest and sighed dramatically. "Some of us just can't help being wonderful," he quipped.

Elsie just turned to him and raised an eyebrow, her lips pursed in a sideways smirk.

"Oh, come on, admit it," he teased. "You were drawn in from the moment you saw me in your office."

Elsie turned to Edith, who was just looking at her expectantly. Biting her bottom lip, she turned back to Charles and gave up the pretense, shaking her head and laughing softly.

"I was," she admitted as she got up from her seat. She leaned over and cupped his cheek in her palm, then kissed him chastely on the lips. "I truly was, and it costs me nothing to say it."

Charles blushed faintly and brushed her leg with his fingertips as she headed away from the table.

"Me, too," he admitted.

From across the table, Edith sighed faintly. "I've never seen you so happy, Uncle Charlie," she said quietly as Elsie was exiting the room.

"Neither have I," Daisy piped up from the corner.

Surprised, Charles looked over to where the girls were sitting, clearly having watched the adults' interaction with some interest. "Daisy?" he enquired, but she just smiled at him.

"It's nice, Papa," she said. "I like it."

 _Well, then,_ Edith thought, _thank heaven for that._

* * *

Elsie found Charles half an hour later in the library, seated at Robert's desk. She moved to stand behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently as he put his signature to the bottom of the paper in front of him. He folded it when he was done and tucked into an envelope.

"Here you are," Charles said, handing the envelope to Elsie. In it was a letter which would give Elsie permission to travel out of the UK with Daisy in tow, and which outlined Charles's contact information, his own passport number, and the fact that Charles had given Elsie the responsibility to seek emergency medical treatment for Daisy should anything happen to her before he returned to the States.

"I have to say, Els, this makes me nervous."

She squeezed his shoulder once more and leaned down to kiss him. "School nurse, remember? Daisy and I will be in the same building for the entire week, either at school or at home. Nothing's going to happen to her, Charlie."

"I know, I just …" He shrugged, sighing and knowing he sounded a bit foolish.

"She'll call you every day after school, all her homework will be done. You're flying in Friday night and we'll be there to greet you. It'll be five full days you won't see her, and you'll be so busy you'll barely even notice."

"Five days when I won't see _either_ of you," he grumbled, and she laughed softly.

"Well, you never see me every day anyhow," she reminded him, and his eyebrows shot up as he started to interrupt her. "I _know,"_ she said quickly, patting his cheek. "We _will_ discuss it, Charles. I promise."

He heard the tiny rolled "r" sounds come off her tongue, and just that small thing soothed him a bit.

"Alright," he smiled. "Oh," he added, "I almost forgot - Daisy's health insurance card is in my wallet, which is up on the bureau. Take the card and tuck it in with that, if you don't mind," he said, tilting his head toward the letter in her hand. "I'm going to stay here and choose a book to read tonight, and I'll be up shortly."

"And is Daisy's passport in her carry-on?" she asked. "I may as well take that, too."

"Yes, thanks."

"See you in a bit." She gave him half a wave on her way out the door.

Charles sat back and watched her leave, his heart growing heavier with every step she took.

 _In four more hours, you won't see either of them again for days._

He capped Robert's pen and put it away, sighing deeply.

 _We REALLY need to do something about this living situation, and SOON._

* * *

 _ **Heathrow Airport, two hours later**_

Charles hefted Elsie's suitcase onto the scale at the counter, then placed Daisy's beside it. The sight of the two bags standing together made him smile, and he felt a tug on his hand.

"Papa," she whispered, and his smile faltered a bit at the quietness of her voice - the voice that seemed to have reappeared in all its beautiful glory when they were in Yorkshire but that seemed to be disappearing again now that their week away had come to an end.

"What is it, petal?"

"I'm going to miss you," she said, her eyes filling. "I don't want to go back without you."

The woman at the monitor asked him for Daisy's passport; he had his hand halfway in the pouch of Daisy's carry-on before he remembered that _Elsie_ had it.

"Here you are," came the Scottish brogue in his other ear, and he nodded his thanks.

"You're traveling with her?" the woman asked, and Elsie replied affirmatively.

"And you are the child's mother?"

"No, we're just traveling home together," Elsie supplied, drawing her lip underneath her teeth. _Why must they continually presume?_

"I'm Daisy father - I'll be joining them in a week," Charles added. "But I've written up a letter …" He looked at Elsie, who was already handing the paper over.

The woman glanced at it quickly and compared the name on it to Elsie's passport.

"Everything is in order - thank you for this," she said, handing the letter back. "Makes everything easier, particularly on the American end."

She looked at Elsie. "When you get back to the States, be sure you have that ready. But I'll put a note in the system for you so that they are aware."

"Thank you," Elsie said.

"You're welcome. Have a lovely flight, ladies," she said, smiling at an increasingly-upset Daisy.

The threesome headed off to use the restroom and get something to drink, hoping for a last few minutes to say goodbye before Charles had to leave Elsie and Daisy at the security gate. They found three seats together somewhat tucked away in a corner.

"Would you like some time alone?" Elsie asked Charles.

"If you don't mind?"

She reached out and squeezed his hand. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous. Just text me, I'll be poking around the shops."

Daisy watched Elsie go and felt sad about it. "She didn't have to leave, Papa."

"No, it's alright. Now, come here," he said, patting the empty seat beside him. Daisy complied, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"It's not a full week, and it will go by quickly as you'll be in school. I'll be able to talk to you every night, and you and Elsie will be picking me up at the airport before you know it."

"I suppose," Daisy mumbled. "I feel like a stupid _baby,_ but I'm just going to miss you _so much,"_ she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"I'll miss you, too, love. _But,_ after this, we'll have _more_ time to spend together than we ever had before. You're going to get sick of me by the time you're ten," he joked, and Daisy cracked a smile through her tears.

"Maybe," she allowed. "But still ..."

"I know," he said softly, and he pulled her in closer. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and then Daisy spoke again.

"I'm glad we went to visit Mummy," she said softly.

"I wouldn't have gone all the way to England and _not_ gone to see her with you," Charles answered. "I'm sorry it was so cold outside and that we had to leave when we did. But it was important for us to do that before heading back, don't you think?"

"Yes." A pause, then, "What did Elsie say about it?"

Charles tilted his head under his daughter's curious gaze. "We didn't discuss it."

"Why not? Would she be angry?"

"Oh, no, not at all," he assured her. "No, Elsie would never want you to forget about Mummy, you know. She understands. Elsie was only a few years older than you when she lost _her_ Mummy."

Daisy's eyes widened. "I didn't know that," she said.

"Well," he said, dropping a kiss to her forehead, "now you do. It's not a secret, but she doesn't talk about it much."

Daisy shook her head slowly. "No," she whispered. "It's sad to talk about."

"Well, it was a long time ago," Charles allowed. "It doesn't hurt as much as you get older. Your grandparents died a while before you were born, and it's not as sad for me now as it was then."

"Mmm," Daisy hummed, pondering all that he'd just told her.

"I'm glad we went," Charles said after a few minutes. And he _was._ He felt _freer,_ somehow, as though it were the final step - except for the selling of the firm - to leaving it all behind and starting a _new_ life when he finally got home.

"Yeah, me, too," Daisy said, pulling him from his thoughts.

"So, chin up? Riding, school, chores around the farm, and I'll be coming home before you know it."

Daisy took a deep breath. "Alright. But I get to call you _every_ night?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh! Can we _Skype?_ Marigold says Bertie does that with his Mum."

Charles made a face. "I don't know how," he admitted, and Daisy laughed.

"It's easy. Let me have your phone," she said, hand held out, palm up.

Charles deposited his phone in her hand and she tapped a few things on the screen. "Okay," she said, "see this here?" She pointed to the icon.

"Yes," he said hesitantly.

"Alright. If you want to call me, you go in here …" And she set him up while he watched in awe.

"Are you sure I can do this?" he asked, and she nodded.

"If you don't know how, ask Auntie Cora," Daisy said. _"She_ knows how to do _everything_ on her phone."

Charles nodded, a bit uneasy that he wouldn't be able to manage it.

"It'll be easier if _I_ Skype _you,_ maybe," she said after seeing the look on his face. "Then you just have to answer it."

"Yes! Much better," he nodded. "I'll tell you what - you can call me at seven every night. I'll make sure it's free, and that I will have time to talk."

"Good," Daisy nodded approvingly.

Charles looked at his watch. "I need to get Elsie back here, petal. You ladies need to get to your gate soon."

"Alright. Can I Skype you tonight?"

"Absolutely," he said, taking back his phone, "but you'll have to wait until you get back to the farm. And you can call me when you get to Boston, alright?"

She nodded. "Yes, Papa."

He typed in a quick message to Elsie:

 _All is clear. Hope you return purchase-free - no more room! x_

A moment later, the phone buzzed in his hand.

 _Ha! Not on your life. Kidding! Be right there. x_

"She's on her way," Charles said softly, and Daisy took his hand.

"Okay. You'll stay until we take off?" she asked.

"Of course. I'll make sure I stay put until I can't see the plane anymore. And you'll call me as soon as you land, let me know how it was?"

"I promise, Papa."

Elsie approached them and laid her hand on their joined ones. "Well … I suppose we should head over?"

"Yeah," Daisy said sadly. "Papa said I should call as soon as we land."

"Good idea," Elsie answered. Then she leaned over and whispered in Daisy's ear, "We should have some time in Boston before our connection. We'll text him a bunch of selfies."

"Deal!" Daisy laughed.

Charles took Elsie's hand in one of his, and Daisy's in the other. The threesome made their way to the security gate, then huddled together for a moment. Elsie gave Charles a rather chaste, but lingering, kiss; she didn't want to embarrass either of them, but certainly wasn't leaving without one. As he broke away he placed his hands at the small of her back; he bent down so that their foreheads were touching, and Elsie rested her hands on his chest.

"I love you," he whispered, and she nodded.

"Five days, Charles. Five days."

"I know, but it feels like more," he admitted, and she felt a lump start to form in her throat.

"It'll fly by," she said. "You'll be sure to call me, too, right?" she teased, and she felt his gentle nod against her forehead.

"I will. Ten o'clock for you, Daisy at seven."

"That's the plan. And I love you, too." She touched her lips to his one more time, then bent to pick up her carry-on and move away a bit, giving him a moment with Daisy.

Charles squatted down and opened his arms. and Daisy flew into them and hugged him tightly.

"I'll miss you, Papa. But I'll talk to you in a few hours," Daisy said, trying to keep from crying.

"I'll miss you just as much, petal. But just remember: the next time I see you, I'll be mostly retired, and we'll be able to spend _so_ much more time together. No work during the summer, I promise."

"Really?" she asked, hopeful.

"Really," he affirmed.

Daisy grabbed his cheeks in her small hands and placed a kiss to his lips, then one to his forehead. "I'm not going to forget you said that, Papa."

He laughed. "I'm counting on it," he answered, tapping her nose with his knuckle. "Now you and Elsie had best queue up, and I'll talk to you later tonight, alright?"

"Alright," she said in a whisper, her eyes filling and the tip of her tongue sticking out past her lips as she concentrated on not bursting into tears. She backed away and Charles stood, then Daisy took her bag and walked over to where Elsie was standing, taking Elsie's proffered hand as soon as she was close enough.

"Ready, dear?" Elsie asked, and Daisy nodded. Together, they headed through security and gathered their things on the other side of the scanners, turning to wave at Charles one last time before heading on up to their gate.

Charles stood and watched them go, then found a seat by the window and pulled the paperback he'd brought with him out of his jacket pocket. He cracked open the cover, then stared blankly at the title page. He couldn't possibly focus on the written words in front of him, with so many _others_ floating around his head. Thank goodness he had the sale of the firm tying him up in meetings on Monday, Tuesday _and_ Wednesday. Robert was planning something for tomorrow, to keep Charles busy, he knew, but he appreciated it all the same. He had a luncheon scheduled with Violet before he was to leave, and he had volunteered to return to Heathrow tomorrow to bring Edith and Marigold for _their_ flight home. All in all, he was going to be insanely busy for most of the hours he was staying behind in England. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit envious of Elsie, who got to return home with Daisy while he was staying behind; he knew he'd be surrounded by people, and yet he still felt so alone.

 _Lonely,_ he thought, that one word that rang out more loudly in his mind - and heart - than all the others. _Lonely … during all the minutes in between._

* * *

Elsie and Daisy had a rather uneventful flight, for which they were both grateful. Daisy managed to watch two movies and had dozed off at the end of the second, and Elsie just let her sleep. The girl was emotionally as well as physically exhausted after a week spent in the presence of all the Crawleys. Elsie knew it had been a lot on Daisy to be more communicative, to be watching out over Marigold as she seemed to do, although Elsie was certain that Marigold thought it was _her_ job to watch out over _Daisy._

 _Just like sisters,_ she thought again. But all of that on Daisy's mind, added to the uncomfortable and embarrassing burden of sifting through her new knowledge about Elsie and Charles and their … well, _activities,_ plus the sheer busy nature of the rest of the week ... well, it was no wonder that Daisy had fallen asleep now that all was quieter. Elsie was wiped out herself, and she had an adult's capacity to deal with it all.

She unbuckled her seat belt and walked over to Daisy's seat, taking her headphones off gently and placing them next to her on the seat. She adjusted Daisy's blanket and repositioned Fred so that he was no longer dangling by one stuffed leg from the edge of the seat.

"Luff you" Daisy murmured, her voice thick with fatigue.

Elsie nearly froze. She looked at Daisy, expecting to see the lovely girl's eyes closed because she certainly _sounded_ as though she were talking in her sleep. But Daisy's beautiful eyes were, in fact, half-open. She reached out her hand, and Elsie grasped it quickly, squeezed it, and then tucked it back into the blanket.

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Elsie whispered, and she placed a kiss to Daisy's hair. Daisy murmured something unintelligible as sleep began to claim her once again, and she snuggled further under the blanket.

Elsie watched her a moment longer, until Daisy's breathing slowed a bit and Elsie was fairly sure she was sleeping. The seat belt signal chimed, and Elsie returned to her seat and buckled herself in once more. She reclined her chair a bit and rested her head against the side of her pillow, a brilliant smile appearing on her face as she shook her head in wonder. She lifted her hand to wipe a few tears from her lashes, then reached over to grab her book, opening the cover and staring blankly at the page on which she'd left off.

Elsie found that she couldn't possibly focus on the written words in front of her with so many _other_ words floating around in her mind, many of them whispering to her how difficult and sad she was going to be for the next several days without Charles by her side every night. But she knew she was the lucky one, to not be returning home completely alone, to have one sweet little girl who would be occupying a good deal of her time. And despite how busy she and Daisy would be with school and life on the farm, Elsie had to acknowledge that _lonely_ was certainly one of the words that was niggling her brain.

Yet when she turned her head and looked over at the little girl sleeping soundly in the next spot over, she was happy to realize that one _other_ word sounded out like the clearest, loudest bell, drowning out all the others: _family._

 _What a difference a day makes,_ she thought, a smile coming to her lips. She settled more comfortably into her seat, clicked her light on, and turned the page of the next chapter in the story.

* * *

 _ **Please leave a little review if you are so inclined! They make my day! x**_


	25. Five More Sleeps

**A/N: Okay, folks, here's the deal. This chapter and the next two sort of go together, but they'll be the last updates on this fic for about a week as I'll be away and not writing. BUT then I'll be back in full force and back on schedule after that.**

 **I have not had a chance to reply to all of your lovely reviews from Ch 24 yet, but I will do so very soon. To all the GUEST reviewers, a special thank you!**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise for proofreading services rendered, and also for listening to me ramble on endlessly about this fic.**

 **Special shout-out to Hogwarts Duo, whose kind words have encouraged and motivated me this past week or so ... I hope this lives up to your "expectations." :) xxx**

 **Cheers to you all -**

 **ChelsieSouloftheAbbey**

* * *

Elsie and Daisy arrived home just before midnight. As Anna turned her car into the long driveway, Elsie sighed, exhausted and overcome by how happy she was to see her little house; the light Anna had left on in the living room window mixed with the soft beams from the lamp posts and the light by the barn, and it all just seemed to be welcoming Elsie home.

"Daisy, we're here, love," Elsie said, reaching back between the seats to gently shake Daisy into wakefulness. The girl had dozed off on the short ride home from Portland, but woke quickly upon hearing Elsie's voice.

"You must be completely wiped out," Anna said sweetly, and Daisy nodded.

Elsie noted the wordless nod but said nothing, managing to keep her words in only by clamping her teeth down on her lip once again. She and Charles were both concerned that Daisy would withdraw into her semi-speechless state once back in the US, away from the comfort of being surrounded by only family and being in a safe, familiar place like the Crawleys' home.

Anna noted the unease and, wisely, didn't say anything else. She pulled up in front of Elsie's walkway and parked the car, then helped Elsie to retrieve the bags from her trunk.

"Daisy, just grab your carry-on, and then would you mind unlocking the door?" Elsie asked, handing her the key.

Daisy took them from her and nodded, then headed up to do as she was told. As she was sliding the key into the deadbolt, she heard scratching and whining coming from the other side of the door. She couldn't believe it, but amidst all of the anxiety she'd had about leaving her Papa, she'd forgotten about Max!

 _Maybe this won't be so bad after all …_

As soon as Daisy opened the door, Max came flying out. He jumped on her and she pushed him down gently, but firmly.

"No," she told him, although unheard by either Elsie or Anna over the dragging sound produced by the suitcases' wheels. Max licked Daisy's hand before bounding off to greet his owner.

"Max!" Elsie laughed, reaching down to hug him and ruffle the fur behind his ears. "How's my baby? Were you a good boy?" she asked, shaking her head at him as he nuzzled his face in her neck. Anna smiled fondly at them both and laughed once Max started licking Elsie's cheeks and ears, his tail wagging a mile a minute.

"He was an _excellent_ boy," Anna praised, and Elsie smiled at her. "I think you may have another fox running about, though … Max was awfully perky last night, and he even barked a few times in the wee hours. All looked well in the hen house this morning, but I wanted to mention it."

Elsie nodded. "Thank you, Anna - and Max," she added, and he wagged his tail even faster at the sound of his name. "It wouldn't have been good to have come home to news of lost chickens."

The women followed Daisy and Max into the house, where Elsie was grateful to see that the wood stove was still going. "Oh, Anna – I thank you even _more_ for _that,"_ she said, pointing to the fire.

"Well, I know you stink at starting it up," Anna laughed, "and it wouldn't do at all to come home to a cold house."

"Everything went fine, though?" Elsie asked.

"Absolutely, although I will say that Scarlett seems to be under the weather. Jamie was here working with Star yesterday and I asked her to take a peek, but she thinks it's nothing major. Still, I think we should keep an eye on her. She's eating and drinking okay, but she seems awfully tired."

"Hmm … alright, thank you. Could just be the cold, I suppose."

"Or that you were gone, maybe?" Anna suggested. "She's moody, that one!"

"True. How did Star do?"

"Jamie said he's progressed along really well. She thinks the kids might be able to ride him around a bit on a lead, too. She had pretty good luck with him herself, as did I – she had me ride him yesterday. I tell you, Elsie, he's _nothing_ like the crazy boy you took in two years ago. This is like a _completely_ different Star from before."

Elsie beamed. "Excellent," she said softly. "I had a feeling about him, I just _knew_ he'd come around eventually."

"Love and care are good for any creature, I'd imagine," Anna murmured, and Elsie looked at her fondly.

"How true," she said, a knowing look passing between the two women.

Daisy had been listening to it all intently, but didn't want to pry. It sounded like Anna was sad for a moment, but when Daisy looked at her, she couldn't be sure if she'd imagined it. No matter, though; Daisy was mostly focused on one thing in that conversation – it sounded like she'd be able to ride Star this week, and she was thrilled. He was so cuddly and sweet when she brushed and fed him during the times she was at the barn, and she'd been waiting ages for the trainer to approve him for therapy rides. She suddenly yawned widely, though, and decided to ask Elsie about it another time.

"Alright," Anna said, yawning herself. "It's after midnight, and you ladies need some sleep. My bag is in the car, here are your spare keys," she said, sliding them off of her key ring and dropping them into Elsie's hand, "and the ones to the Carsons' place are in the dish on the kitchen counter, next to your mail."

"You are a lifesaver, Anna Smith," Elsie said, hugging Anna tightly. "I'll see you soon. We're skipping church tomorrow, I think – too much to unpack and wash, and we need to get Daisy over to her own place to drop off vacation things and pick up school stuff."

"I'm sure you have more than enough to do! I'll tell everyone you're back safely, then."

"Good – thanks. Oh, Anna?"

Anna turned in the doorway, one hand still on the knob. "Yes?"

"I hope things are going well with John," Elsie said softly.

Anna blushed, but smiled brilliantly. "They _are,_ actually," she answered.

"Good. Maybe you can come for dinner once Charles is back?"

"I'd like that, and I'm sure John would, too. Good night, Daisy!" she called, waving into the house.

"Good night," Daisy said softly, but only Elsie heard her.

Elsie closed and locked the door behind Anna, then turned to face the girl in front of her, her charge for the next several days.

 _Well, here goes nothing …_

"I'm really tired, Elsie," Daisy said. "Can I just go to bed and take a bath or shower in the morning?"

"Of course. Are you hungry at all?"

Daisy shook her head. "No, thank you."

Elsie took a deep breath. "Alright, then – let's show you to where you'll stay." Elsie led Daisy to the larger of her two spare rooms, the one with an attached bath.

"I hope this is okay," she said gently. "I asked Anna to make up the bed for you, and I think you'll be warm enough as the wood stove heats this room pretty well."

"It's far away from yours," Daisy noted, looking across the open-living area and down the hallway to Elsie's bedroom, and Elsie tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"It is, but as the other one is next door to _this_ one, there's not much of a choice, I'm afraid. I think that if you leave the light on in the bath and the door to the room half-open, you'll be more comfortable. That way, if you wake in the middle of the night and aren't sure where you are, you'll at least be able to see."

Daisy nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Alright, then … Your toothbrush and toothpaste are in your suitcase, I saw your Papa pack them. Pajamas, too," she added, walking out to retrieve the bag in question. She lifted it and plopped it on the bed, then motioned to it with a flick of her finger. "You pick out what you need, and then you can use the loo and get ready. I'm just going to feed Max and empty my own suitcase, and then – when you're ready – we can call your Papa quickly before bed, okay?"

Daisy smiled. "Sounds good, Elsie." She turned toward her bag, and Elsie exited the room, pulling Max out along with her so that Daisy could ready herself without distraction.

"C'mon, boy – are you hungry?" She laughed softly as Max's ears flew up, and she reached down to scratch them.

"I'm counting on you to keep Daisy company when she's here, Max," Elsie murmured in his ear. "How about we put your bed in her room, hm? Would you like that?"

Max pricked up his ears and gave Elsie another kiss, then padded over to his dish and sat beside it expectantly.

"Food, then cuddles. Deal?"

Max barked, and Elsie just shook her head and laughed.

"Deal," she answered for him.

* * *

Daisy rolled over in bed and her eyes flew open, her heart beating furiously as she tried to figure out where she was. She calmed when she saw the light coming from the sink in the bathroom, and she remembered that it had been Elsie's idea to leave it on.

Breathing deeply, she clutched Fred tightly in her arms and kissed his head, drawing comfort from his familiar scent and the feel of him next to her.

Something moved then, startling her, and she looked down by her leg.

" _Max?"_ she whispered, and his tail starting tapping gently on the bed. "How did you get up here?" she asked. She leaned over to pat his fur and kiss his head, and that's when she spotted his bed on the floor. "Oh, did Elsie move your bed in here?" The thought made her very, very happy indeed, as she knew Max wasn't allowed in _Elsie's_ room.

"Daisy?" Elsie's soft voice came from the doorway, and Daisy looked up to see her standing there in her nightgown and slippers. "Are you alright, dear? I thought I heard you shout out."

"I think so," Daisy said. "I had a dream, but can't remember now what it was. I'm sorry if I woke you up," she added.

"Oh, you didn't," Elsie assured her. "You've only been asleep about an hour, and I was just finishing up talking with your Papa. I'm surprised you were even dreaming already."

"Max got up here," Daisy giggled.

"So I see," Elsie said, smirking at her dog. "And he knows better, but I think we'll allow it – only in your room, mind you. That is, if you like him being here?"

Daisy nodded quickly. "Oh, yes, please let him stay."

"Alright."

"Elsie?"

"Yes, love, what is it?"

"Can _you_ stay? Just until I fall asleep again?"

Elsie smiled at her. "I can, indeed," she said, already wondering in the back of her mind how in the world she was going to function in five hours when the animals would wake her and want to be fed. "Just let me fetch my book," she added.

Elsie returned swiftly, book and reading glasses in hand. She kissed Daisy's forehead and brushed some stray bangs from the girl's face.

"That's for _sweet_ dreams this time," she said, and Daisy smiled and nodded hopefully.

Elsie took the armchair in the corner and settled herself in underneath an afghan, then clipped a book light to her paperback.

"Will the light bother you?" she asked, and Daisy shook her head.

"No, I don't think so."

"Alright, then," Elsie said softly. "Sweet dreams," she reminded Daisy.

"You, too."

* * *

Elsie woke to the sound of the rooster, and winced as she moved her neck the wrong way.

"Oh, you didn't," she muttered to herself as she realized that she had, in fact, fallen asleep in the chair in Daisy's room.

She extracted her body from the blanket and got up as silently as she could, her neck and lower back groaning in protest with every step she took. She turned to close the door behind her and smiled as she heard Max's soft snores emanating from under the blanket, where he'd tucked himself right up against Daisy's side. She left the door ajar enough so that he could paw it open if he needed to go out, but she didn't expect she'd see him until Daisy woke.

Having dressed quickly and donned a barn coat and gloves, Elsie made her way to see the rest of her crew. She started with the horses, spending a few extra moments with Scarlett and noting that, as Anna said, she appeared tired.

"You seem fine otherwise, though," Elsie muttered, kissing Scarlett's snout. "But I'm taking your temperature later, so be prepared." She swapped the horse's blanket for a clean one, and then headed over to see Star.

"Well, well, Star. I hear you've had an _excellent_ week!"

Star whinnied and flicked his tail in reply, and Elsie laughed.

"And are you ready for our special girl, my dear?" she asked him. "She's been waiting months to ride you, you know. Be sure you're well-behaved." She filled the water trough and made sure they had enough hay, then checked the setting on the barn heater before making her way to the chicken coop.

Just as Elsie reached the top of the basement stairs, having deposited her barn boots and jeans in the washer downstairs, the door to Daisy's room opened and Max scurried out. Elsie sent him straight out the doggie door to take care of business, then filled his food dish before retrieving some clean clothes and heading into the shower.

Twenty minutes and one hot shower later, Elsie was feeling less achy and much more like herself. She put on water for tea, popped some bacon on a baking sheet and put it in the oven, and started mixing up some batter for waffles. If they were going to have a nice, quiet morning in, unpacking and doing chores, then they might as well indulge a bit. Elsie started humming and singing a bit to herself, albeit quietly lest she wake Daisy.

 _I'm getting her up in half an hour if she hasn't woken on her own, though,_ she thought. _Otherwise she'll never sleep tonight._

As if telepathically bidden, Daisy emerged from her room five minutes later, rubbing her eyes and dragging her slippered feet across the floor.

"That smells great," she mumbled, and Elsie smiled. "I heard you singing. What's the name of that song?"

Elsie thought for a moment, trying to remember which one Daisy would have heard. "It's called _I've Got A Crush on You._ Frank Sinatra."

"Yeah, that's it. Papa likes that one."

 _Of course he does._

"Would you like some juice? There's also tea, and the waffles are on … Do you like bacon?"

"Oh, yes!" Daisy nodded, suddenly seeming much more alert at the promise of food. "That all sounds good - I'm starving!"

Elsie handed her a glass of juice and finished preparing breakfast. She made up two plates, handing one to Daisy.

"Here?" Daisy asked, indicating the counter where she was already seated.

"Sure," Elsie said. "I often eat here in the morning, it's just easier."

Just then, Max bounded through the doggie door. He pressed a cold nose to Daisy's leg, causing her to squeal in surprise.

"Go eat," she told him, laughing still. "Your nose is _freezing!"_

"It's pretty cold out today," Elsie warned her. "After breakfast, Daisy, I'd like you to shower while I clean up and get some laundry started. I'll just empty your bag and wash your things here, then we can bring them back to your place later on, and grab whatever you need for school."

"Okay," Daisy said around a mouthful of waffle.

"We also need to get to the grocery store, as I have precious little here, so we'll have to chat about what you'd like. Do you bring your lunch to school?"

A nod, then a swallow. "Soup, usually," Daisy offered. "I've got a Thermos at home that Papa puts it in so it stays hot. Can we get that?"

"Of course," Elsie answered, jotting that down on a pad of paper by her plate. "Think of some more things, and we'll write them down as we go."

"My backpack and books are at home, and my big winter coat," Daisy supplied, and Elsie added them to the list. "And can I get my pillow?"

"Sure," Elsie answered. "Anything else?"

Daisy thought about it, then shook her head. "No, just clothes."

"Alright, then." Elsie rose from her seat and rinsed her plate. She refilled her tea, humming away as she cleaned up and let Daisy finish eating.

"I'm finished," Daisy told her after a bit. "Those waffles were awesome – better than the ones Papa makes," she added conspiratorially.

"Well, that can be our little secret," Elsie winked. "Okay, young lady – shower for you, then we'll head out and get things done. Then maybe a movie tonight? And then school tomorrow."

Daisy groaned, but Elsie was having none of it.

"We've just had a marvelous vacation, no need to complain," she said, and Daisy looked down, properly chastised.

"I know," she grumbled.

* * *

Elsie settled into bed on Sunday night, pulling the quilts up around her waist as she settled back against the pillows, her phone clasped in her hand as she fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket.

"So, how'd today go?" came Charles's deep voice from her earpiece.

Elsie sighed. "Really well, actually. I'm positively knackered, but the laundry is all done and Daisy's all set for tomorrow. We aren't going to starve, and the animals have forgiven me my absence. It's frigging cold, though, I'll tell you that."

Charles chuckled. "Here, too. Snowed again last night. Daisy tells me you rather spoiled her at the store, bought everything she asked for?" he teased.

"She requested four things, Charles, and two of them were cereal and milk. I was hardly going to turn down a packet of cookies and half a dozen oranges on top of those."

"I know, I'm only teasing." He sighed. "Thank you, love, for taking such good care of her. She said you're even letting Max sleep in her bed?"

"Well, better than in _ours,"_ she mumbled, and he laughed as he imagined the smirk that was undoubtedly on her face. "Seriously, though, I didn't think he was ever going to get up! He cuddled himself right up to her – they were quite literally snoring in unison when I got up!"

"Daisy said _you_ fell asleep in her room? You poor thing, you must've been rather stiff this morning."

"I was, but that's more likely due to the fact that I had a week of leisure preceding my little stint in the armchair," Elsie admitted.

"Well, you did get _some_ exercise …"

"Yes," she allowed, a flush coming to her cheeks; even though his eyes weren't literally trained on her at the moment, his glance not _actually_ raking up and down her body, she imagined it nonetheless. "I did. Rather a lot, as I recall."

"I couldn't sleep last night, kept tossing and turning," Charles said.

"You've a lot on your mind, dear."

"I had no lovely Scottish lass by my side, warming her frigid feet on my leg, more like," he replied, sighing. "Five more sleeps."

"Five more," she agreed. "And then … perhaps … none?"

She heard a rustle and knew Charles had just sat up abruptly in his own bed, thousands of miles from her.

"Don't tease me, Els," he warned her.

"I'm dead serious, Charlie. Daisy seemed to do alright last night, except for that one little instance." She sighed. "But I can completely see her in that room … permanently. If she does well this week, I think we should discuss it on Friday when we pick you up."

"Are you _absolutely sure?_ I won't press you, I've told you that before."

"I know, and I love you for it. I'm not saying it'll be snag-free, not with you and I both being as independent as we are, and with my slightly stubborn streak." She heard his dry laugh at that, but chose to ignore it. "But I think we can make a go of it, if Daisy's comfortable enough, and I truly mean to make her comfortable over the next few days. Do you think she'd leave the beach house willingly, though?"

"Oh, I think so," Charles said quickly. "Trade the house on the beach for the one on her favorite farm? Move in where her favorite horses live, and get a dog out of the bargain as well? Elsie, that's like a dream come true for Daisy. And she loves you, you know," he added.

Elsie's breath caught, and she smiled. "As it happens, I _do_ know," she said softly, nibbling on her lip. "She told me."

"Did she? Well, then, I'd say that rather settles it. We'll give it a go, then?"

" _If_ she approves, Charles. If the week goes well, we can talk it through on Friday, alright?"

"Absolutely." He yawned loudly, and Elsie checked the clock.

"Heavens! It's going on four a.m. there! You've _got_ to get back to sleep if you're to be awake enough for that meeting," Elsie advised. "And perhaps instead of this late-night/early morning thing, I should try to speak to you early in the morning _my_ time, if you're free? I know this is convenient for me as Daisy's asleep, but if I wake you up every night it's going to mean you'll be half-dead come this weekend."

"I hate to admit it, but I know you're right. Hm … how about this? I've booked an early lunch hour around eleven each day - perhaps that would be better? Would you have time to call around six in the morning?"

"I'll make time. And for heaven's sake, it's only for a few days."

"A few long days, though," he sighed. "In that gigantic bed. Alone … no Scottish lass."

"Oh, listen to you!" she chided him. _"No_ , don't even think how hard it is for _me_ … All alone here in _my_ big, empty bed, with no strong, warm, lovely arms wrapped around me."

"And legs," he piped up, and she laughed.

"And legs," she purred, her accent growing slightly thicker with her fatigue. "Well," she added, "I'm not cold anymore."

"Nor I," he yawned, "and now I have the promise of sweet dreams to sustain me. Good night, Els. I'll talk to you in a few hours."

"Good night, Charlie, and best of luck tomorrow. I love you."

"Love you, too," he answered.

Elsie was certain she heart the faint sound of a kiss as she reached her thumb over to end the call.

"Oh, Charlie," she whispered, smiling to herself. "You old romantic."

* * *

 **More coming very soon - thanks again for your support and love, all! x**


	26. The Fall of Mama Bear

**A/N: Not to throw her under the proverbial bus, but it's thanks to Mistress Dickens that this is getting more interesting now. This chapter comes from a conversation we'd had ages ago about possibilities for this fic, and she blew my mind when she brought one up that was eerily similar to a real-life experience of my aunt, who lives on the farm upon which my Elsie's place is based. It freaked me out! Thanks to brenna-louise for hearing me about about it and endless conversations about the direction for this fic ... and for proofing it and catching my silly typos.**

 **So ... Don't hate me. Please. Have faith! :)**

 ****Second update in one day - be sure you've read Ch 25 first!****

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Monday, February 23, 2015 - Misty Cove, ME, USA**_

"Morning, Edith!" Elsie chirped, rounding the corner to her boss's office. "Oh," she added quietly, seeing the greenish hue to Edith's face.

"Oh is right," Edith moaned, motioning with her hand for Elsie to shut the door.

"Here, maybe this'll help," Elsie said softly, placing a cup of tea on Edith's desk. "Peppermint."

Edith looked at it warily. "I'm not sure if I can," she said. "I tried a few crackers … never mind,' she said quickly, clenching her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. "Best not to think about those."

Elsie walked over and put her hand on Edith's forehead. "No fever, which I'd expect you not to have anyhow, but you're pretty clammy. What's on your agenda for the week?"

"Not much, thankfully. One IEP meeting on Thursday, but that's in the afternoon and I'm fine after about ten o'clock anyhow … so far," she said. "Besides, that one's just for Jimmy; I can task it out to Phyllis if I need to."

"Alright, then. Stay put here. Madge has things well in hand at the front desk, so hole yourself away and look busy. I'll split your lunch duty with Mr. Levinson. The timing will be great, as I can pop out the first bit of each lunch and get the meds out. And he won't mind, because it means he can stay close to the kitchen … and the _cooks,"_ Elsie smirked. Both ladies knew Mr. Levinson, their regular substitute teacher, had a soft spot for one of the young cooks - and that the feeling was mutual. _No,_ Elsie thought, _he won't mind that at all._

"You're a life saver, do you know that?"

Suddenly, Elsie heard a knock on her open door. "Coming!" she called, patting Edith once on the hand before leaving her office.

"Joseph!" she exclaimed, seeing him standing quietly in the doorway to her office. "It's only second block … don't tell me you've got one down already!"

"Oh, no," he reassured her. He indicated the seat by her desk. "May I? It's my free block, and I feel like we should chat …" His voice trailed off, and Elsie motioned for him to take a seat as she closed her door and sat behind her desk.

"What can I do for you? It must be a student."

"It's Daisy," he said bluntly.

"Ah," Elsie said, with just a hint of reserve. "Alright."

"Look," Joseph sighed, "I know you were all away in Yorkshire, and that is wonderful, truly. But the not talking really _is_ affecting her in class, at least with Sarah. She's been on the warpath all morning about it, and I felt like you should know."

"Wait," Elsie interrupted him. "Yorkshire … how, may I ask, did you know that we were all together? Not that it's a secret, but still." Her brow furrowed, and she looked at him warily as a smile broke out on his face.

"I knew, Elsie, because _Daisy told me._ This morning, because she was a bit earlier to arrive than usual?"

Elsie flushed a bit. "Well, yes," she hedged. "She arrived with _me."_

"So she said," Joseph replied, still smiling. "Elsie, she _spoke to me._ I said something about how she was early, and she said _you_ had driven her. And I just asked why, and she said she's staying with you this week because Mr. Carson is finishing up some business in London?"

"Yes, he's selling his law firm," she said absentmindedly. "That's of no consequence - she _spoke to you._ Joseph, I must say, that is truly remarkable! It is completely down to _you_ and your patience and caring, you must realize that."

It was his turn to turn pink. "I suppose so," he acknowledged quietly. "But now …"

And it clicked. "Of course … now Sarah is going to make your life a true living hell, because if I am certain of anything, it's that Daisy is decidedly _not_ speaking to Sarah O'Brien."

"You presume correctly - Daisy admitted as much. She doesn't like her."

Elsie laughed, then bit her lips closed. "Well, she's such a _smart_ young thing," she murmured, perfectly well heard by Joseph.

"That she is," he agreed. "Will you speak to Daisy? For me? I'm afraid her week is about to get much more difficult in Sarah's classes. I'll keep an eye out, and I will most certainly report anything over the top to Edith, but …"

"I shall," Elsie promised. "And thank you. We were worried that she'd retreat back into being non-verbal once she got back to school, but it appears that is not the case."

"And she speaks to the entire family now, yes? It wasn't a problem while you were away?"

"She does, and it wasn't. And it was a houseful all week, too."

Joseph twisted his hands, contemplating if he should even bother verbalizing his thoughts. But he liked Elsie, and was happy if she was doing well, so he chanced it.

"If I may say so, and feel free to tell me to butt out, things seem to be going extremely well for you and Mr. Carson."

Elsie couldn't help the smile that came to her face, and Joseph thought she positively glowed in that moment.

"I don't mind you saying so, Joseph, because I trust you implicitly." She let that sink in for a moment, knowing she'd made him slightly embarrassed with the compliment. "Things are perfect, and I consider it a huge blessing that the Carsons were brought into my life."

"And the reason for the trip to England?" he asked.

"Ha! Charles just turned fifty - on Valentine's Day, no less," she added, absentmindedly fingering the pendant that rested on her chest. "And once Edith's grandmother got wind of it, well, that was that."

Joseph laughed heartily at that, remembering meeting Violet at Edith's wedding. "Oh, I have no doubt! That one doesn't do anything by halves, does she?"

"Not at all," Elsie agreed. "But it was wonderful."

Joseph glanced at the clock and got up. "I'm glad to hear that, Elsie," he said meaningfully. "You truly deserve to be happy."

"So do you," she muttered, tilting her head down the hall toward the Guidance office.

"I'm working on it," he replied with a smile. "Just, you know … it's me, so … slow and steady?"

"Whatever works," she smiled. "Thanks for stopping in, Joseph. I will talk to Daisy, and to Charles."

"Thanks. See you later, Elsie."

"See you."

Elsie did speak to Daisy that night, and Daisy was adamant: she didn't like Miss O'Brien. Daisy knew she was getting her work done and didn't even require extra time in which to do it, often done _before_ her classmates. The way she saw it she'd still do well with _zeroes_ on the few assignments on which speaking was mandatory, as she aced all her tests. Elsie couldn't really argue, and didn't want to anyhow. Until things changed drastically - in ways that involved a ring residing once again on Elsie's left hand, if that _ever_ happened - she was not Daisy's mother, and she wouldn't discipline her as though she were. She filed it away to add to the conversation she'd have with Charles in the morning.

They settled in with a movie Monday night, and Daisy slept well with Max tucked in by her side. Elsie didn't sit in with her again, but stayed up to do a bit reading in the living room - close enough to be right there should Daisy wake up again, which had not happened.

* * *

Tuesday morning was fairly uneventful, except that by now everyone seemed to have figured out that Daisy was staying at Elsie's, which meant that the staff were all now aware of the relationship between the girl's father and their school nurse. Many of them didn't live in town, or hadn't attended the New Year's Eve party; others simply didn't listen to gossip.

Tommy Barrow stopped in during his study hall to see Elsie, asking if she needed any help now that she was back. She didn't, but got him to verify in a roundabout way that his father was still away and that his Mum was doing well. She noted Tommy looked good, and told him so.

"How's Daisy?" he asked, and Elsie appreciated the thought.

"Very well, thanks."

"I hear she's spoken to Molesley," he said.

 _"Mr._ Molesley _,_ Tommy _._ You know better than that."

"I know, I know," he replied. "But did she really?"

"She did," Elsie admitted, and Tommy - somewhat to her surprise - smiled brightly.

"That's great," he said heartily, and she knew he meant it.

"She'll be staying with me most of the week as Mr. Carson is in England. Stop over tomorrow for dinner if you like." Elsie loved that Tommy and Daisy had gotten on so well on his birthday, and wanted to foster that if she could. "Bring your Mum if you think she'd come."

"Not likely," he admitted, "but I'll mention it to her, though. Thanks, Ms. Hughes."

"No problem, just let me know. Now get back to class before we both get in trouble!"

"Sure thing. Bye!"

* * *

Wednesday flew, as Elsie was busy with kids that were now getting sick, the ones who'd gotten too little sleep over the school break. _Put them all back in here, together, coughing all over each other, and … lovely._ She sent five home with fevers, one who was vomiting (which almost - _almost_ \- sent Edith over the edge), and one who Elsie was sure had strep.

Daisy popped in during lunch and checked that they'd be going straight home after school. She had a good amount of homework, she'd said, but was looking forward to her set hour with the horses.

"Absolutely," Elsie said fondly. "Now, go eat!"

A couple hours later, Elsie was clearing her desk when Daisy came down to her office at the dismissal bell. She plopped down in a chair, completely frustrated by the amount of work Miss O'Brien had assigned to her.

"It's not fair," Daisy muttered, and Elsie silently agreed. The teacher seemed to be taking Daisy's silence _very_ personally and it was, quite frankly, beginning to piss Elsie off.

"What did she assign you?" Elsie asked, keeping a level tone to her voice.

"Three _extra_ chapters to read - which is fine," Daisy said, "because I read fast. But I'm to answer almost _twice_ as many questions as the others, because 25% of the assignment is to present the report orally and I won't do that. So I'm to … what did she say? … Oh! Yes. I'm to 'show that I know more ahead of time,' as she can't ask me to explain any of it when I turn it in." Daisy was aware that her tone of voice was inappropriate, and was grateful that Elsie seemed angry herself - but not with Daisy.

"She certainly _could_ ask you anything she wanted, and you'd write down the answers!" Elsie argued. She knew she shouldn't, but the words just fell out.

" _I know."_ Daisy looked down at her shoes, clearly furious, and Elsie was at a loss. She got up and went into the Guidance suite for a moment, then returned with a folder.

"What's that?" Daisy asked, coming over to Elsie's desk.

"It's your 504 file," Elsie said, her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose as she scanned for the part she was looking for. "Here it is," she muttered. "Be right back, dear, and then we'll head home."

"Okay," Daisy said, her brow furrowed as she pulled out her iPod and opened up a game. "I'll stay here, then."

Elsie marched into Phyllis's office and shut the door behind her.

"Elsie? Whatever is the matter?" Phyllis asked calmly.

Elsie took a deep breath and plopped the file on her friend's desk. "Sarah O'Brien. She's in violation of Daisy's 504."

"I'm sorry?"

Phyllis was confused. Everyone knew Sarah could be a right bitch when she wanted to be, but she was ridiculously detail-oriented and did her job to the letter. Of all the staff, it was Sarah whose reports were meticulous, Sarah who was the first to arrive at staff gatherings and the last to leave at the end of the day, all of her grading and planning clipped and labeled and ready to go for the _next_ day, Sarah who had every assignment returned to the children the day after they'd turned it in. If what Elsie was saying was correct, and Sarah was not adhering to the plan, then there was no way it was a mistake or an oversight on Sarah's part.

"I know, she's a model teacher," Elsie said. "But I'm not kidding - listen to this." She crossed her arms in front of her chest as she gave Phyllis the condensed version of Daisy's assignment.

"But she can't do that," Phyllis said. "It's not an equitable assignment - it's literally more time-consuming, and more work, and _different_ work."

" _I know,"_ Elsie repeated. "That's why I'm standing here. Legally bound, Phyllis," she said, tapping her fingernail on the 504. "She is legally bound to abide by this. She can't _not_ follow it, or Charles could quite literally come after her."

Phyllis leaned back in her chair and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "How do you want to play this, Els?"

"What do you mean?" Elsie was thoroughly confused for a moment, and then the penny dropped. "Oh, right. The perception - of it being _me_ who complained. Of course."

Phyllis nodded. "Yes. You're not her parent, although just as good as if you ask me. Don't even," she said as Elsie started to protest. "You completely came in here like a _mother,_ Elsie, so don't even try that. And I think it's wonderful, but perhaps not the best tactic in this instance."

"But she can't keep doing this!"

"Calm down, Els. Here's what I propose. Go home, and have a good night. I am scheduled to meet with Daisy tomorrow anyhow. I am quite certain that Daisy will tell _me,_ and then _I_ can be the one to raise the issue. I'll talk to Sarah, because it sounds as if she's just doing it to get a rise out of Daisy, to see if she'll - no pun intended - 'say something.' But I'd venture a guess that she _expects_ Daisy to complain to _you,_ Elsie. I think she's trying to get a rise out of you, so stay away from it while you're here, alright?"

Elsie knew Phyllis was right. "Okay."

"Good. I'll see Daisy in here tomorrow, then. Tell her we spoke, but obviously I would gloss over some of why you aren't complaining to Sarah yourself."

"Of course. Phyllis … thank you," Elsie whispered, her eyes full of emotion.

"You are such a Mama Bear, Elsie - and it suits you," Phyllis said, standing to hug her friend.

Elsie huffed out a laugh. "Well, that's a sentence I never thought I'd hear."

"Never say never, Els."

Elsie nodded. She thanked Phyllis again and headed back to her office.

"Let's go, Daisy!" she said cheerfully. "Oh, did Tommy stop by?"

"Yeah, he said he's not coming, whatever that means."

"I invited him to dinner with us," Elsie said, smiling as Daisy raised her eyebrows. "You get on well, don't you?"

"Yeah," Daisy smiled. "We do."

* * *

Daisy managed to do half her reading before her therapy appointment with Elsie. It seemed strange having an appointment when she was basically living there now, but Elsie still treated it the same as before. Daisy headed over to the barn and ran into Anna.

"Daisy! Are you all ready for today? Trying Star out, I think."

Daisy nodded, looking in on Scarlett and seeing that she still seemed tired. She reached out and patted the horse's nose, then moved on down to stare at Star for a bit - who, Daisy noted, was staring right back at her.

"He's ready, according to Jamie, and Elsie will have him on the lead. You'll be fine. Are you scared, Daisy?" Anna asked.

Daisy realized that she wasn't scared, not really. She was a good rider, and the paddock was fairly small. She just … she couldn't explain it, silently or otherwise, and so she just shook her head.

"Good," Anna said.

"How are we doing?" Elsie called as she came down the walkway. "All set down there?"

"All set," Anna replied. "You've got a new kid starting on Friday, named Kenny. Otherwise it's business as usual. Oh, and one of the bulbs blew on the outside floodlight. Want me to pick up a new one on the way home?"

"Oh, would you? That would be great, thanks," Elsie said. "See you tomorrow, then."

"Bye!" Anna called, already heading for her car.

"Okay, Daisy," Elsie said. "I'm going to get Star out in the paddock, ride him around a few laps to loosen him up a bit. Then we'll get him on the lead and have you get on, and we'll see how he does. I think he'll be fine, though."

"Which bridle?" Daisy asked, and Elsie pointed one out. Daisy helped her get it on Star, and then Elsie saddled him, cinching the straps carefully as Daisy patted and talked to him.

"You're such a good boy, aren't you?" Daisy said to him. "Are we going to have a nice ride?"

Elsie beamed down at Daisy. "I think he likes you," she said, and Daisy smiled.

"Okay, boy, let's get you out." Elsie put her foot in the strap and swung herself up into the saddle, settling herself in comfortably and putting her gloves on. She clicked her tongue and pulled the reins a bit, and led Star out to the paddock area.

Daisy got her own coat zipped up and donned her riding gloves. She walked over to the doorway and watched as Elsie brought Star out and ran him through a few paces, starting him slowly and encouraging him through a gentle walk and increasing his pace into a slow trot.

The next few seconds - maybe ten, Elsie would say much later on - seemed to happen before Daisy's eyes in slow motion. Elsie was rounding the far corner and something spooked Star. He whinnied loudly and bucked a bit, but Elsie managed to control him … until she couldn't. He bucked twice more and managed to throw her, and Daisy watched in horror as Elsie's body hurtled to the ground and she landed on her back with a loud, sickening thud.

"Elsie!" Daisy screamed, running out toward where the woman lay on the ground. Her first thought was to get Star's reins in her hand, but she knew she wasn't strong enough to control him. She didn't have to worry, though, as Star simply bolted past her, running back into the barn and into his stall. Daisy ran over and shut the gate before returning to Elsie's side, dropping to her knees.

"Elsie? Oh, oh my God, Elsie," she sobbed, reaching up furiously to wipe at her face as she willed Elsie to look at her.

 _Open. Your. EYES!_ Daisy's mind screamed.

Elsie groaned, and Daisy heaved a huge sob and sigh, hiccuping slightly. "Elsie? I don't know what to do. What do I do?"

Elsie forced her eyes to open a bit and she saw Daisy kneeling beside her. _My head … and my back … oh, shit, my BACK …_ She attempted to move her toes, but she couldn't feel if it was working or not. _Oh, God, nooooo …_

She licked her lips, seeing Daisy's own lips moving even though Elsie couldn't hear anything. Her head was starting to spin and she was trying valiantly not to vomit.

"Phone … pocket," she managed.

Daisy understood immediately. She ripped Elsie's phone out of her coat pocket and dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency?" came the voice on the other end of the phone, and Daisy froze.

"9-1-1. What is your emergency? Hello? What's your emergency?" the woman's voice kept saying, and Daisy _knew_ she had to answer. She scanned the property for a sign of someone, _anyone_ else, but Anna had left and Tommy wasn't going to be coming.

"Hello?" The voice was insistent now, and Daisy took a deep breath.

"I need help," she squeaked. "At the L'il Farm in Misty Cove."

"Can you tell me what happened?" the woman's voice said.

"Elsie was thrown from a horse," Daisy explained, trying to do so in as few words as possible. "She can't move, I don't think."

"Okay, can you tell me the address of the farm?"

"It's on Spruce Street, but I don't know the number. It's near the beach. Please hurry," Daisy whispered.

The woman on the phone said help was coming and asked Daisy to stay on the line until that happened. Elsie stirred, and her fingers fluttered. Daisy reached down and grasped them in her own and squeezed.

"Try to keep her awake," the woman on the phone said.

"Elsie? Elsie, you have to stay awake," Daisy whispered. "You can't fall asleep. Elsie?"

Elsie opened her eyes fully and locked her gaze on Daisy's, noting the girl's terror and, somehow, finding the strength to do as she was told and stay awake. It would be _so easy_ to just close her eyes and fall asleep, but Daisy was clearly petrified and Elsie couldn't leave her to deal with anything alone.

"I'm here," Elsie whispered, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the sound of sirens came from the corner of the driveway and an ambulance flew up alongside the paddock.

Two paramedics got out and ran over toward the fence.

"Is it electrified?" one asked, and Daisy nodded. She pointed to the switch, and the second man reached to turn it off.

"Okay now?" he asked, and Daisy nodded. The men rushed in, one of them carrying one of those platform things that Daisy figured they were going to put Elsie on.

"This your Mom?" the younger of the two men asked, but Daisy shook her head.

"Okay, are you a student here?"

"I'm staying here. My Papa is in England," Daisy whispered. "She's his girlfriend, we're …" she trailed off, shaking her head and starting to cry again.

"It's alright, sweetheart," the older man said softly. His partner was checking Elsie's pulse and shining a light in her eyes, and Daisy heard her mumble something unintelligible.

"I didn't let her sleep," Daisy managed.

"Good job," the younger one praised her. "What's your name?"

"Daisy Carson."

"And hers?"

"Elsie Hughes."

The older medic looked up sharply. "Elsie Hughes? The school nurse at Misty Cove Elementary?"

Daisy nodded, and saw as the man looked at his partner.

"What is it, Jack?"

"I can't believe I didn't recognize her … She saved my son's life three years ago," he said quickly. "Anaphylactic shock - she got his Epi pen into him before the ambo got anywhere near the school. He could have died out there on the field, but she busted her ass to run across the entire campus to get to him in time. She goes VIP, Rob."

"Got it. Okay, Elsie? Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can."

No squeeze.

Elsie could tell they were talking, but she couldn't make herself speak anymore, couldn't tell them that she could see their lips moving but could hear nothing.

"Gotta go, Jack. Let's get her on."

"Back up a bit, alright Daisy?" Jack said, and she complied. "Wait - do you know where her keys are?"

Daisy thought for a minute, then nodded quickly.

"Run to the house for me and grab them, and lock up. No one else is home, right?"

 _No,_ she answered with a shake of her head.

"Then, Daisy, it looks like you're riding shotgun. Grab those keys and we'll get her loaded up, alright?"

Daisy got to her feet and flew across the yard to do as he asked.

"You're brilliant," Rob said quietly, and Jack nodded.

"No sense in her seeing this," he said. "Okay, Elsie? We're going to get your neck secured and then get you on the backboard to get you into the ambulance. The best thing for you to do is relax. It may hurt, but try not to fight us. You're a nurse, you know the routine. I remember you, you know. Fiery personality. But you bury that now, sweetheart, and let us take care of you."

Elsie couldn't hear everything he said, but when she got a good look at Jack she recognized him instantly from the incident with his son. She blinked twice to show she understood the general gist, and she let them get her squared away. By the time Daisy came back out, Elsie was already in the back of the ambulance.

"Okay, Daisy," Rob said, handing the girl Elsie's phone, the one that Daisy had dropped when she went running in for the keys. "You're up front, and we're heading to Southern Maine Medical. Is there someone you can text or call, an adult who can come and be with you?"

Daisy thought instantly of Auntie Edith, but she was _so_ sick that Daisy didn't think it was a good idea. Anna wasn't home - she'd mentioned going out with John - and Papa was in England. But then ...

"Yes," she said. She flipped through Elsie's address book, but the number she wanted wasn't there. "Wait," she added, "she's not in here." Tears sprang to her eyes, and Rob patted her shoulder as he pulled out.

"Can you call your Papa?" he asked, and she nodded. "Okay. Do that, and perhaps he can get in touch with the person you want, alright?"

"Alright," Daisy said, already tapping on the "Charles" icon, smiling through her tears as she realized it was a picture from his birthday party.

* * *

 _ **London, England, 21:35**_

"Thank you for dinner," Charles was saying to the two women seated across from him. He reached out to refill their wine glasses, the new ring on his hand glinting in the candlelight on the table.

"Nonsense," Violet shushed him. "It was our pleasure."

"I should be the one saying thank you," Isobel chimed in. "You both let me tag along!"

"I'm glad we got a chance to see one another again, Isobel. I do hope you'll be coming to the US sometime this year."

"Well, I plan to -"

Her voice was cut off by the vibration of Charles's phone, which was currently in the pocket of his jacket, which he'd draped over the back of his chair. He reached for it and said, "Excuse me, please. I know it's horrible manners, but with Daisy away …"

"For heaven's sake, Charles, don't apologize," Violet said.

Charles managed to extract the phone and his heart flipped when he saw the screen.

"Elsie?" his surprised voice said into the mouthpiece. "Is everything alright?"

On the other end of the line, Daisy burst into tears at the sound of his voice. "Papa!" she cried, and absolutely sobbed.

" _Daisy?!_ What is it? Are you alright?" He glanced up at Violet and Isobel, whose eyes were wide with concern.

In the ambulance, Rob took the phone from Daisy, it being obvious she was going to get nowhere.

"Sir, my name is Rob, I'm a paramedic and Daisy is riding with me. There was an accident at the farm - your daughter is fine," he said quickly, hearing Charles's gasp and realizing the assumption he'd made. "It was a woman - an Elsie Hughes?"

"Oh my God," Charles murmured. "Is she …"

 _Daisy?_ mouthed Isobel.

Charles shook his head and sent back an _Elsie,_ his mind attempting to focus on what Rob was telling him.

Isobel turned to Violet and they held a hushed conversation, one made of few words but one in which decisions were made regardless.

"She's alive, and awake and somewhat responsive," Rob was saying. "We're on our way to Southern Maine Medical. I hate to ask, but your daughter was looking for the number of someone with whom she could stay. It was a ..." He looked over at her. "Daisy, who was it?"

"Mary," she whispered.

"Someone named Mary. Is she a relative? Daisy couldn't find her in Elsie's phone."

"No, she wouldn't be," Charles answered. "I'll call her immediately and have her get to the hospital, and I'll have her text Elsie's phone once we've spoken. Is Elsie … what happened? How badly is she hurt?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot divulge that information to you without her consent. But it looks positive so far," he did say, "although you didn't get that from me."

"Thank you," Charles said, waving his hand at Violet and Isobel, who stood before him with horrified looks on their faces. "I've just finished dinner, and need to get back to the house and pack a bag. I'll be on the first flight out from London as soon as I can get to the airport; please tell them to expect me at the hospital."

"Accompanied by a doctor," Isobel said, reaching for her coat, and Charles nodded. "Accompanied by a friend who is a doctor," he added.

"Do you know who her health proxy is, if she has one?"

"I don't, not for certain, but you can try Beryl Mason at _The Cheeky Devil._ She's Elsie's best friend; if it's not her, she'll know who it is."

"Okay, thank you." He handed the phone back to Daisy, but the line had gone dead.

"He'll be here as soon as he can," he told her, reaching over to hand her a tissue as she reined in her emotions as best she could. "And he's calling your friend Mary now."

"My aunt," she said softly. "She's my aunt. I hope she comes."

Rob looked at her curiously. "Whyever wouldn't she?" he asked, but Daisy just shook her head. "Well, in any event, we'll be there in five minutes." He flipped a switch to start the siren, and Daisy sat back to wait for Mary's number to come through, the sounds of Jack's voice speaking to Elsie, amidst some beeping machine, blending into the background as Daisy once again began to sob.

* * *

 **Don't hate me - I've got plans. I'd love a review if you're so inclined. x Have faith, folks.**


	27. A Scot for the Scot

**A/N: Here is the third of the three updates I promised you. It sets the tone for the rest of the story, I think, and answers a few questions – namely, why Daisy didn't call Beryl, and what Elsie's prognosis is. All details from this point forward regarding Elsie's condition are shamelessly stolen from my aunt, who experienced just such an accident (and was home alone at the time). Actually, now that I think of it, other (read: future) events are also based on that same aunt. I should send her a royalty check ...  
**

 **I have to give a shout-out to my buddy J, who asked MANY moons ago about the title for this story – if it was referring to the fact that most of the action takes place after the** _ **autumn**_ **type of fall, or if it was referring to Elsie's past. I told her it was both, but now there's clearly a _third_ meaning as well. When I named the fic, this entire bit wasn't even on the radar yet, and I'm rather chuffed that it melded so nicely. I should also clarify that Mistressdickens didn't suggest **_**Elsie**_ **could suffer a fall, but rather that it could be Daisy. I switched it up for a variety of reasons, one of which was the self-preservation of my own heart.**

 **I'll catch up on your lovely reviews as I am able, and I promise you much more to come in about a week, maybe less.**

 **This chapter is not beta'd, so please bear with me regarding any errors (although I do have a faithful friend who texts me screenshots of those, and I love her for it).  
**

 **Chelsie on!  
**

 **CSotA**

* * *

Isobel reached over and squeezed Charles's hand.

"He said it looked positive. _You_ have to stay positive – if not for yourself, then at least for Daisy."

Her whispered voice didn't calm his nerves or his thoughts, but he appreciated it all the same.

Charles looked out the window into the black sky, a maelstrom of thoughts inside his mind. _Elsie, my God … Daisy … "I cannot divulge that information to you." … "We have two seats in economy if you can be here in an hour, Sir." … Health care proxy … "I'm on my way, Uncle Charlie." … She's alive … She's alive …_

"Charles?"

He looked down at the handkerchief Isobel was holding out to him and accepted it gratefully, wiping his face and reaching for the amber-colored drink on the tray in front of him. He couldn't even recall having ordered it, but he tossed it back neatly.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "For this," he clarified, gesturing to the cloth in his hand, "and for coming with me."

"I wouldn't have dreamed of staying behind. If you don't mind my saying so, I'm rather fond of you. I feel I really had a chance to get to know you this past week, more so than before."

"I think I'm more my true self now than I was when we had last seen one another," he whispered. "It's all because of her."

"Yes, the bond you have is truly remarkable. I'm rather fond of _her_ , too, as is Violet." Isobel checked her watch. "We'll be there in three hours, give or take. You need some rest if you're to be any good to Elsie and Daisy when we arrive."

He nodded, and then reached up to click off his light.

"Thank you," he repeated.

Isobel nodded encouragingly, her lips pursed together as she managed to hold in all the emotion she was feeling.

 _He certainly doesn't need to see_ _ **you**_ _lose it,_ Isobel told herself. She reclined her seat back gently and pulled up the blanket.

Isobel reflected on all Charles and Daisy had been through over the past year and, when she was sure he had nodded off, she allowed a few tears to escape her eyes, sending up a fervent prayer that Elsie would, indeed, be just fine.

* * *

The plane landed in Boston on time and the small, connecting flight they'd managed to secure to Portland was thankfully uneventful. Isobel arranged for a rental car while Charles retrieved their luggage, and they made it to the hospital in record time given the lack of traffic in the wee hours of the morning. Charles parked in the first available spot and they followed the signs to the main entrance.

"Papa!" Daisy yelled as Charles passed through the doors, and he crouched down to grab her up in his arms, her legs dangling as she held him tightly around the shoulders.

"Shh," he soothed her, his hand rubbing her back as her tears wet his collar. "It's alright, petal. I'm here now."

"Mary," Isobel said, approaching the younger woman. "How is she?"

"As well as can be expected," she said, understanding Isobel was referring to Daisy. "She wouldn't speak to anyone but me once I arrived, but I was prepared for that."

Isobel gave her a kind smile. "That's a credit to you, my dear. I'll admit, I was rather worried this experience would cause her to completely regress."

Mary just shook her head in wonder as she looked fondly at her Uncle Charlie and Daisy, who were now holding hands as Daisy led him toward the waiting room. "She was incredible, Isobel, truly. She called 9-1-1, spoke to the dispatcher, was able to communicate where they were and what had happened, and was able to keep talking to Elsie the entire time until they got there, in order to keep her conscious."

"Remarkable," Isobel whispered.

"I fear that we'll be seeing the repercussions of that for weeks, though," Mary added, "but no matter. He's here now." She smiled fondly at her uncle from where she stood in the corridor, and he caught her tired glance and returned the smile.

"I agree," Isobel said. "That little girl has expended an enormous amount of physical _and_ emotional energy these last hours. She's going to need some time to rest and recuperate. I don't suppose they've told you anything?"

Mary shook her head. "No, but Beryl Patmore is in with her now. She's evidently Elsie's health care proxy, so the doctor is telling her what they know, I'd imagine. And Elsie is awake and responsive, so I think she's participating in as much of the conversation as she can."

"You must know a lot of people in this area, given the coverage of your newspaper," Isobel observed. "What's your take on the staff here – any good? I know it seems impertinent, but …"

"Don't worry, I know what you mean. It's quite a good facility, I think, and the staff seem quite on top of everything. I was here when the ambulance arrived. The medics said something about Elsie being a 'VIP,' whatever that means."

Isobel smiled. "It means the paramedics or doctors must know her, or at least they know that she's a nurse. Fellow medical professionals don't get special treatment, exactly, but it's something that they'd acknowledge."

"I see. Well, they whisked her into the ER and then it was all kind of a blur. She was triaged but I wasn't allowed back there, and by that point I had my hands full with Daisy. The doctor did come out and see us, though – he's local, Dr. Richard Clarkson, and knew Daisy from some field trip he chaperoned recently. I think his niece is in her class. Anyhow, he couldn't tell me much, but once Beryl showed up things started happening rather quickly. She sat with us for a bit and explained that they were running blood work and tests. The only _real_ news she had was that it doesn't seem as though Elsie would suffer any paralysis from the fall."

Isobel heaved a deep sigh. "Thank God," she muttered as Charles approached with Daisy.

"I have to get in to see her," he said quickly. "Will they allow me?"

"Beryl is in there now," Mary said. "I asked the nurse to let her know you're here, and –"

"Charles!" Beryl's call came down the corridor, interrupting whatever Mary was about to say.

Charles rushed over to Beryl and wrapped her in a quick hug. "Oh, my God, Beryl – how …?" He was trying to maintain some kind of control, and she spoke matter-of-factly.

"No paralysis, and she's awake but _really_ needs to sleep. I've called Anna and she'll see the animals are taken care of, and I think Mary and Daisy will bring Max to your place – they have barely slept themselves."

"Alright - good," he replied, clearly anxious.

"Come on, then – she's been staying awake because she's been waiting for you," Beryl said, tugging his hand.

He looked back at Daisy. "I'll be back soon, alright? But then you ladies need to go home and sleep."

Daisy nodded and yawned, then sat down with Mary and snuggled into her aunt's side, Mary's arm wrapped around her as she dropped a kiss to her forehead.

 _Go,_ Mary mouthed to Charles.

He nodded gratefully, trying to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he followed Beryl into Elsie's room. _Mary may have her problems,_ he thought, _but she's always had a soft spot for Daisy. Thank God._

Beryl looked sideways at the large man walking by her side, gasping slightly at his disheveled state; he looked absolutely crushed, and she wasn't sure if he was going to look better or worse once he laid his big, greyish-brown eyes on Elsie. It had been a shock to Beryl, to be sure, and she'd seen her share of accidents and illness over the course of her life. But Elsie looked so small and frail in the bed, and … well …

She sniffed quietly and wiped at her eyes before steeling herself in front of the door to Elsie's room.

"I feel I should prepare you –" she started, but Charles brushed past her gently and pushed the door open, stopping short three or four steps in as he laid eyes on his love.

 _Ohhh …_ was all he could think as his eyes took in the scene before him.

The first thing that registered in his mind, the bit that truly shocked him, was the brilliance of Elsie's flaming auburn hair spread out against the stark white of the pillow – the stark white of the _room._ Her face was wan and her eyes closed, but somehow he knew that she was at least partially awake. His eyes scanned the rest of the room quickly, noting a faint beeping and the flickering lights of her oxygen and heart rate monitor.

"Mr. Carson?" came a Scottish, male voice from somewhere to his right.

Charles turned to see a man approximately his own age, mustache and hair some combination of blond, red, and a bit of silver.

"Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Richard Clarkson," the man said, offering his hand.

Charles shook it, then smirked. "A Scot for the Scot?" he mumbled, and the doctor laughed.

"It would appear so – and perhaps the only two who reside in Misty Cove."

Charles raised an eyebrow, Dr. Clarkson nodded.

"Yes, I live in town, although I'm rarely there lately as I've been covering for various staff here. But when Elsie was brought in, I refused to turn her over to anyone else."

He glanced over at the bed, where Elsie was beginning to stir at the sound of their voices. "She's a fighter, and that fire has made an enormous difference. That," he paused, and looked back at Charles, "and your Daisy. She was truly amazing, from what Rob and Jack had to say anyway. Her quick thinking made all the difference."

Charles was overcome, allowing his tears to fall freely. "Beryl said we should talk," he managed.

"Yes – she and Elsie insisted that they would share any information I have with you anyhow, so it made sense to wait for the big conversations. Suffice to say she's stable and will be going home in a day or two, barring any unforeseen test results. But I'm expecting everything to be fine."

The doctor reached a hand out and touched Charles on the arm. "Go and be with her, and see if you can get her to sleep. I think she'll be ready to rest now that you're here. We can talk in the morning." He pointed to an armchair in the corner, telling Charles it would recline if he wanted to sleep in Elsie's room that night.

Charles just nodded his thanks, and the doctor and Beryl left the room.

As Charles approached the bed, Elsie managed a faint smile as she peered at him through half-lidded eyes. He turned to the nurse, who was holding something out to him – a blanket, he saw, and a pillow.

"I'm Sybil, I'll be Elsie's nurse for the next twelve or so hours," she said softly. There was a kindness in her eyes and her voice that calmed Charles instantly, and he thanked her as he took the items from her hands.

"If I may be permitted," she said quietly, "your daughter is truly something. But she's going to need some rest herself, and _soon_. She's rather overwhelmed by all that's happened. I'd recommend sending her home with her aunt, and allowing her to return tomorrow once Elsie's a bit more herself."

"Thank you," he replied, smiling at her. "I appreciate that – both your noticing _and_ your suggestion. That was my plan, and it's nice to know it was the right one."

Sybil nodded and then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her as she did so.

Charles walked over to the bed, where Elsie was now resting fully open-eyed and looking at him intently.

"Charlie," she whispered, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. She lifted her hand a bit, and he rushed over to her and grasped it, leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips.

"I'm here," he said, his voice breaking. "My God, Elsie, I was so scared." He sat in the chair by her bedside and squeezed her fingers tightly.

"Shh," she soothed him, removing her hand from his to reach up and brush her fingertips over his lips. She noted they were dry, and wondered if he'd slept at all recently – he seemed so much more disheveled than usual.

"What time is it?" she asked, and he pulled out his watch.

"About five in the morning," he said.

"Have you slept?"

He chuckled. "Are you positively _insane,_ woman? Here you are, laid up in hospital after a rather nasty accident, and you're worried if I've slept?"

"I am," she smiled, her voice dry and thick. "It's my job … worrying about you."

"I slept a bit on the plane, thanks to Isobel," he answered.

"Isobel? She came with you?"

"She did. She thought she might be able to help, and she's got fewer responsibilities at the hospital lately so she easily moved some things around."

"Bless her," Elsie whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. "Oh, my head hurts like hell."

"Dr. Clarkson tells me you need to rest, love," he said gently. "Your test results are expected in the morning – _later_ in the morning," he clarified. "Will you sleep?"

"That depends - will you stay?"

He smiled. "As it so happens, I had planned on it. Let me firm everything up with Mary and I'll be right back."

Elsie's brow furrowed gently in confusion. "Mary's here? Why?"

"She's watching Daisy, who didn't want to disturb Edith and Bertie since Edith's been so ill."

Elsie nodded. "Of course, because Daisy will _talk_ to Mary. Beryl wondered why she'd not just called her and Bill. Good … that's good," she said, her voice trailing off.

"Mary will stay at my place with Daisy for as long as you're here, and they'll take Max along, too. Beryl has been in touch with Anna and everything at the barn will be taken care of. _You_ just focus on resting and getting out of here."

"You've all taken care of everything," she said, and he nodded as he stood up.

" _They_ have," he corrected her softly. _"My_ job is to take care of _you."_

"I'm glad," Elsie murmured, drifting off. "Come back to me."

He turned in the doorway to look at her, his heart full of emotions he could never put into words.

"Always," he whispered.

* * *

 **There we have it, for a few days anyhow. I hope this leaves you all in a better place. A wee review would be lovely, and I promise to respond to them as soon as I can. xx**


	28. I'm Not Going Anywhere

**A/N: You. Guys. Oh. My. Goodness. I can't even - the reviews! Yikes! I think I got to most of them, and I apologize if I did not reply to a few of the most recent ones. It was overwhelming, to say the least. Your kind words and amazing support were a godsend as I returned home from the Sea Island Downton weekend and stumbled into the reality of illness and a blizzard. So, thank you, THANK YOU for all of that. Over 700 reviews, I'm just stunned.**

 **Special shout-out for this one to dibdab4, my homegirl and kindrid spirit, who glanced at the first bit of this chapter and convinced me I'd not totally lost my mind with how it came out. And sending love to brenna-louise, shopgirl1217, evitamockingbird, peetlepee, misslinzay, chelsieteancrumpets, and readingteacher - for fangirl amazingness. MWAH! Huge kisses!**

 **Guest reviewers - please open an account! I'd love to be able to chat with you all.**

 **Here we go! Not really beta'd at all, and written half on a plane and half in a medicine-induced haze (much like Elsie, har de har) so please pardon any errors.**

 **This one's got a song accompaniment: another by Brother Sun (I've used them in the Music fics) - "Love Is the Reason." The entire song doesn't quite fit, but these verses totally do. Enjoy, and check them out if you like folk music and acoustic sounds. They're awesome. The song is on my Spotify, where it's free to join and then you can subscribe to my playlists for the fics I have on here.**

 **Love you guys! xxx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _What if everything you're looking for_**

 ** _Is right there within your reach?_**

 ** _I think it's time we finally take our chances_**

 ** _Let our hearts speak louder than our fears._**

 ** _Because love is all I ever wanted_**

 ** _Love is the reason I'm still here …_**

 _ **Friday, February 27, 2015**_

"Elsie, you have to let me help you."

Shooting Charles an angry look, Elsie blew her bangs off of her forehead, hating that she'd not been able to shampoo her hair for two days.

" _You_ need to get out _there,"_ she said, pointing a finger at the doorway that led to the corridor. "I need to pee, and you're not helping with _that._ And then let me change my clothes. Afterwards, when I'm in the wheelchair, you may come back in."

Charles was crushed, but he tried not to let it show. "Alright," he agreed, and headed out as bidden.

 _Holy hell_ , she thought, _I'm not even home yet and he's driving me crazy!_

She appreciated his care, truly, and tried to keep reminding herself of that. The man had tried to coax her to eat, had fired a barrage of questions at Nurse Sybil about everything: painkiller side effects, possible chafing from the back brace Elsie would be wearing and how to deal with it, antioxidants, acupuncture, and everything in between. And, bless her, Sybil had answered them all calmly and kindly.

Elsie freely admitted that it had been such a relief to see him come into her room the moment he'd gotten in from London, and with Isobel in tow no less. _She_ had been a godsend, and Elsie was enjoying getting to know her despite the fact that it might have been nicer to do so without the need for Isobel to assist Elsie with things like using the loo.

"Elsie?" As if summoned telepathically, Isobel came in the room. "Charles said you banished him?" she added with an inquisitive smirk.

"I did. So help me, Isobel – I love him, but we're going to bloody kill each other within three days of being home if he doesn't give me just a bit of space." Elsie looked at Isobel's shocked face. "Sorry," she muttered. "I'm just really tired, and it makes me grouchy."

"I'll say," Beryl cackled from the doorway. "But it's why we love you, dear - it's your endless charm. Now, we've calmed dear Charlie boy down. Which of us is helping you to the loo?"

"Oh, I think it's your turn, Beryl," Isobel answered. "Let's hope Elsie doesn't use her ninja skills to escape, however."

They all laughed a bit as Beryl helped Elsie up. "Ow," she murmured.

"Easy, Elsie," Isobel said. "Remember, you don't have the brace yet, and it's been a while since you had some pain meds."

"Just wait until you _get_ that back brace, though – Daisy's right, you know," Beryl chuckled.

"About what?" Elsie asked, feeling like she missed something.

"You're going to look like a Ninja Turtle. She's calling you Raphael, on account of you having red hair - he's the red one, you know, you've seen it with the kids, right? And she wants to know if you like pizza."

"I do know. And only _Daisy_ can get away with that, you do realize?" Elsie groaned. "If the two of you get on board with that turtle nonsense, you're out."

"Ha! You need us, love," Beryl replied.

Ten minutes later, Elsie made it out of the restroom. Beryl brushed her hair for her and put it up in a ponytail so that she'd be presentable when the nurse came in to discharge her. Elsie climbed into the wheelchair, stating she wouldn't be spending another minute in that bed, and Isobel and Beryl pulled over the extra chairs in the room to join her.

"Thank God the tests were all fine," Beryl muttered, and the others nodded.

Elsie's blood tests - which had been a routine work-up but which had also been used to rule out things like epilepsy - were all clear. While Daisy attested to the fact that Star threw Elsie, the medics wondered if perhaps Elsie had done something to spook the animal, like having had a seizure or maybe even having passed out, but the tests showed nothing out of the ordinary. The x-rays, however, were a different story: they showed an L3 vertebrae fracture; it wouldn't require surgery, but the recovery would be slow. The back brace would encourage healing, and Elsie would wear it for six weeks whenever she wasn't asleep or in the shower. For the weeks following that, she would be on a strict physical therapy routine. She was barred from returning to work for at least ten weeks.*

"I'm _so_ lucky," Elsie said, tears coming to her eyes. "My God ... it must have been so awful for poor Daisy! I couldn't have handled it if something more horrible had happened with her watching."

"That girl could easily have saved your life," Beryl said, and Isobel agreed.

"Oh, absolutely! Keeping you conscious was crucial to your outcome. Brain injury is nothing to mess around with, as you well know."

"Yes," Elsie agreed, "and I now have first-hand appreciation for what the kids feel like when they come in concussed, I'll tell you that. This headache is bloody awful."

Just then, Charles knocked.

"May I come back in, if I promise not to help you do anything?" he asked meekly.

"Oh, love, of course you can," Elsie said, extending her hand to him. "I'm sorry, I can be a right bitch when I'm unwell."

"Then I will just have to get used to it," he replied, taking her hand and placing a kiss to the back of it. "And you can ask Isobel how I was when I had my heart attack, but I know her answer will embarrass me."

"Talk about a right bitch," Isobel murmured, and Elsie and Beryl laughed while Charles looked steadily at Elsie's hand. "But _that_ was different - he _could_ walk around and do things, he just didn't want to be bothered!"

"I wasn't lazy, exactly. I was just ... nervous," he said quietly, and Isobel patted his shoulder.

"I know, dear. And your wanting to remain well and heal fast for Daisy's sake was, indeed, admirable. You know I am only teasing you."

"Well, thankfully I had you and Cora there to help me, or I would have been alone," he said.

"Wait, what?" Elsie interrupted, her hand up and eyebrows raised high. "Where was Alice?"

"Mm," Isobel answered, sucking her cheeks in a bit as she pursed her lips together. "Well, she was working. Couldn't get the time off."

Elsie looked between her new friend and Charles, and she felt his hand tense up in her own, felt his embarrassment at this blatant comment about the state of his marriage, particularly in front of Beryl.

"I see," was all she said, but she squeezed Charles's fingers, encouraging him to look up at her. When he did so she smiled brilliantly at him, and he leaned over and kissed her temple.

 _What kind of woman isn't by her husband's side at every moment when he's just had bloody heart surgery_? she thought ... and then, just after the words flew through her mind, she felt positively awful.

"Isobel, Beryl, would you mind leaving us for a moment?" Elsie asked.

"Of course not," Beryl said, knowing from the look on Elsie's face what she was thinking. "Glad you got there in the end, dear. We'll knock when the nurse comes, alright? Give you a fair warning."

Elsie nodded her thanks, and she and a puzzled Charles watched them leave.

"Els? What is it, love?"

She turned to him and he was stunned to see tears on her cheeks. He quickly leaned over and placed his hands around her face, his fingers feeling their way through her hair as he brushed the tears away with his thumbs. "Tell me," he whispered, confused.

"I'm so sorry, Charlie. I can't believe ... my goodness, I've been positively _horrid_ to you since you arrived! I mean, I was so happy to see you here, and then the very next moment I was awake I started harassing you, being bothered by you, when all you were trying to do was care for me. It was completely uncalled for, and awful of me, and I'm so very sorry."

"Hey, what's brought this on?" he asked. She was virtually sobbing and he leaned down to kiss her on the nose. "Elsie, sweetheart, you've been uncomfortable, terrified, tired, and up and down on medication for two days! Of course you've been a bit, well, not yourself," he acknowledged with a small smile. "I don't hold that against you."

She answered the question he asked, and chose to ignore the rest. "What brought it on was the mention that you were all alone when you had your heart attack," she said. "That Alice wasn't with you at all. It _infuriates_ me to think of it, yet here I am begrudging you wanting to be by _my_ side at every moment. I'd be the same if it were you sitting here in this chair, and I know it. I'm ashamed of how I've treated you," she added, leaning her cheek into his palm. "I want you by my side all the time," she whispered.

"In sickness _and_ in health, you mean?" he quipped, and her head flew up, her eyes meeting his.

"What?"

His jaw dropped and he was about to apologize, but only had one thought: _Why should I?_

"Well," he hedged, pressing his lips together as he gathered his courage. "I just suppose ... I've been thinking ... and ..."

But Elsie beat him to it.

"Do you want to get _married_ , Charlie? Seriously?"

He looked into her brilliant blue eyes, so striking in color that he felt as though he still didn't know the depths of all the shades and facets contained within ... and he understood with stark clarity that he wanted to spend the rest of his lifetime getting to know those shades, those facets, and everything else about her, too.

"Do you?" he deflected, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He took both her hands in his own and rested them in her lap.

She stared at him, at this wonderful, loving, supportive man by her side, the one in whose hands hers were currently tightly grasped because he'd jumped on a plane and flown across the ocean to be by her side when she needed him the most. She thought of how Beryl had needed to be there as her health proxy, and that Beryl and Elsie had to give permission for Charles to even _be_ there in the emergency room; she thought of how he'd not have been able to hold her hand or be by her side, not have been able to hear the words of the doctor, even, without her specific consent. They'd gotten lucky that the doctor was Richard Clarkson, that he knew Elsie a bit and was able to understand how her injuries would affect her jobs, both at school and on the farm. But Charles may not have been able to hear about any of it had Elsie been unconscious, or if Beryl had been away at the time.

She drew her bottom lip under her teeth and gnawed on it for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"I do," she said clearly, trying to keep from crying _again_ (damn, but she'd done a lot of that lately). "God help you, Charlie, because I do."

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, a chaste kiss becoming somehow deeper as the seconds ticked by ... not tinged with their usual passion, but with something much more _meaningful_ than they'd experienced before.

"I wonder if I was right," she whispered when they broke apart.

"About what?"

She reached her hand up and brushed her fingers over his heart, fingering where she knew the scar resided underneath his crumpled shirt.

"I find it hard to imagine that _anyone_ has _ever_ loved you the way I do," she said, reminding him of a long-ago morning when she'd held him in the wee hours. "I think I'd like to spend the rest of my lifetime showing you that."

Her words mimicked his feelings from moments ago so clearly that he gasped, and she smiled.

"What is it, Charles? Have I shocked you?" she asked, but he just shook his head.

"No. Amazed me, pleased me, touched my heart - and myriad _other_ things that I could say which would be just as hopelessly inadequate - but not shocked. I think I always knew we'd end up here. At least, I _hoped_ we would."

She looked at him strangely. "I didn't know it, not until recently, and I'm sorry that I can say that. But if you offered me millions right now to go back to _not_ having had this conversation, I'd turn you down flat. I _do_ want to be your wife. I just didn't realize it until the past week. And I was so afraid," she added quietly, almost an afterthought even though it spoke to her deepest fear and emotions.

"Why?"

"Because of Daisy. Because I feared she wouldn't want me, wouldn't want to share you with me. That you both just got settled into this new life and that she wouldn't want me to have a big place in it yet, which would have been totally understandable."

"Oh, Els ... I was afraid, too. I was married over twenty years but was never as happy as I am with you. I have Daisy because of Alice, and wouldn't give her up for anything, but I want to embrace that happiness that you've offered to me."

"I was married, too, remember. But it pales in comparison to _this,_ Charlie," she said, tilting her head back to accept another kiss.

Words completely failed him as emotion took over.

"I love you so much," he finally managed, and she nodded.

"We'll have to wait, you realize, because I'm not getting married looking like a Ninja Turtle," she said cheekily, and he laughed through the last of his tears.

"You always do that," he commented after a moment, and she looked at him strangely. "You know," he explained, "you make me laugh when I'm upset, or calm me down when I'm worked up about something. The first time you managed it, I ... I don't know, I just _knew_ we'd end up here."

She cocked her head. "When?" she whispered, painfully curious now that her fear was gone. "When did you know?"

Charles licked his lips and looked past her, over her shoulder, and trained his gaze on the doorway - on which a knock sounded before he could answer.

"Saved by the bell," he said with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Elsie swatted him, but then sat back as Isobel and Beryl came back in, accompanied by Sybil and also by Dr. Clarkson.

"Elsie, how are you this morning?" Dr. Clarkson asked, reaching down to feel her pulse in her wrist as he looked at his watch. He released her hand when he was done and added, "Still beating, so that's good. A tick faster than I'd like, but we'll let it slide," he added with a knowing look which made Elsie flush and made Beryl shoot her best friend a look that said, _What's this?_ Elsie closed her eyes briefly and shook her head: _Not now._

"Pain level?" the doctor asked.

"Six," Elsie lied. _More like an eight, but time to go home, lass._

"Six?" He raised an eyebrow. "And the leg?"

"Seems fine," Elsie replied.

"Now _that's_ a lie," Beryl interrupted. "She struggled with it in the bathroom just now – almost fell, good thing I was there."

"I see," Dr. Clarkson said, shooting Elsie an angry look. "You know better, Elsie. I'm inclined to keep you overnight for this, just to observe you …"

"But you won't," she retorted, "because I'd leave AMA.** So here we are. Give me steroids for the leg if you want, but _I am going home."_

"Oh, don't you worry – I shall," he said, already typing the new prescription into the computer. "Between the Vicodin and steroids, good luck to your friends," he added with a smirk.

"Yes, we've had the 'bitchy Elsie' conversation already, thank you very much," Elsie grumbled.

"Alright," Dr. Clarkson continued. "Well, as long as you're set up at home to be taken care of, you're free to go, Elsie."

"Take the medication, Elsie," Sybil offered. "Get some rest."

"I can manage," she insisted, and the doctor chuckled.

"I give you less than twenty-four hours," he said. "You've been on medication the entire time you've been here, don't forget. Besides, with that concussion you won't be doing much of anything for days - you know the routine, Elsie. No reading, phone, computer, or television for longer than an hour at a time, with frequent breaks and with those hours spaced apart greatly."

"Yes, I'm to be sequestered in my own room, looking out the window and wishing I could do something."

"I'm guessing you'll be wishing you were sleeping away the boring hours – take the meds, Elsie," Richard advised. "Let your body rest and heal."

She sighed loudly through her chapped lips, reminding herself how much she just wanted to be in her own bed.

"Fine."

* * *

The next twenty-four hours went by in a haze for Elsie. She'd gotten home and made it five hours before she was going stir crazy. Charles convinced her to take a pain pill before going to sleep, and she acquiesced just to make him stop bringing it up. But she couldn't say she wasn't grateful; it was the best night's sleep she'd had in days.

"Elsie?"

Charles peeked in on her, and saw her eyes flutter as she woke.

"Charlie?" She swallowed a few times, trying to moisten her mouth enough to be able to speak. Like a flash, Charles was by her side with some ice chips, and he placed a few in her mouth.

"Just until you're up and we're sure you won't be sick," he said, and she nodded gratefully. "Isobel suggested it. She's gone now but will be in to check on you tonight."

"Where?" Elsie asked, relishing the cool feel of the ice on her throat. "Where is she now?" she clarified.

"She's staying at the beach house, actually. Mary insisted just before she left last night. You were out like a light by then," he said softly. He reached over to brush her hair away from her forehead, where it had stuck a bit during the night. "You're not feverish, which is a relief," he murmured.

Elsie managed half a smile through her sleep- and medicine-induced haze. "Thank you. Daisy, is she coming over at all? Surely she will stay here."

"Do you want her here?"

Elsie's eyes widened with concern. "Of course. Unless she's too afraid?"

"No, she seems fine," Charles hedged, hoping to delay that conversation for a while.

Thankfully, Elsie just nodded. Just then, Max came in and sniffed her hand, and she reached over to pet him before remembering it was a rather bad idea.

"Ow," she complained. "Sorry, boy, Mummy can't reach."

Max gently hopped up and placed his two front paws on the bed, and Elsie reached for one of them. He kissed her hand, then hopped back down and trotted off.

"Sweet," Charles murmured. "He's trying to take care of you."

"Everyone taking care of me, it's ridiculous," Elsie grumbled.

"And you're in such great shape as to do it yourself? I think not, love," he answered gently. "Now, there's a chair that's been placed in the shower. I insisted on having one, and Isobel brought it over this morning. I knew you'd not abide sponge bathing for a week, and I can manage to get you in and seated enough that you can likely shower yourself. When you're finished, you'll ring this bell." He held it up, and Elsie had to chuckle: it read _Ring for Maid._

"Like a child. You're treating me like a child."

"Like someone just broke her back, you mean? Yes, exactly," he volleyed. "How's your stomach?"

"Fine, actually. Hungry. I think I can manage something to eat. Nothing big, though."

"I boiled some eggs last night. One of those with some toast?"

Elsie smiled up at him. "Perfect," she said. "And I'd give my right arm for a cuppa."

"No need to be maiming yourself any further, dear. The kettle's already on. Give me ten minutes, alright?"

She nodded, then rested her head against the pillow.

 _My goodness, he's already moved in. He must have done – smells like he's showered, like his soap, his shampoo. Clean, crisp clothing. He shaved. Daisy coming back, too. He's made food, put on tea … this is too good to be true …_

His gentle knock before fully re-opening the bedroom door took her out of her thoughts.

"Here we are," Charles announced. He entered with a flourish, and Elsie had to smile at the tray that he had balanced on his fingertips: egg in the cup, toast on the side, homemade preserves in a small cup with its own diminutive spoon ( _wherever did he find_ _ **that?**_ ), teapot with steam pouring from the spout, and a small flower in a bud vase.

"Aren't you sweet? Waiting on me like this, it's going to get old for you pretty quickly, I'm afraid."

"That, my dear, is not going to happen." Charles set the tray on the table he'd placed at the foot of the bed, then moved up towards Elsie. "Give me your hand," he commanded, and she obeyed. He gently eased her up, placing his other arm behind her back until she was fully upright, and then piled pillows up behind her.

"Alright, now sit back gently," he encouraged, noting the wince on her face as she did so. "Your leg?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, it's weak, but every once in a while I get this awful twinge."

"Well, we'll feed you and then it's time for the steroid pill, then maybe we can get you showered before your next pain pill."

Elsie just nodded as Charles unfolded the legs of the tray and placed it over her lap. He reached for the teapot and made to pour, but Elsie held out a hand to stop him.

"Milk in first," she reminded him, and he chuckled – she'd chastised him for this last time, too.

"That's right – I'd forgotten. It won't happen again," he said, and he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek.

"Better not," she smirked. "Care to join me?"

"I've eaten, but I'll have another cup of tea," he said, and left to retrieve another cup and saucer.

"Here we are," he said, pouring his own tea.

"Wherever did you find this?" Elsie asked, holding up the preserves.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind … I went through the hutch, actually. Couldn't find one in the kitchen."

"Yes, as I usually just take it straight from the jar like a normal person. This is unnecessary, Charles, really."

"You had one, it's got a purpose, and so I used it." He raised his prodigious eyebrows, and she had to laugh.

"Fine," she allowed. "I will let you pamper me with proper tea and breakfast service as I sit here in my sickbed."

"Damn right you will," he quipped, and she sputtered on her tea.

"Ow," she said, licking the spot on her lip that she'd just burned with splashed-up tea. "Thanks for that."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, rising from his seat. He reached for the back of her head and pulled her forward a bit, then tilted her head up enough so that he could wrap his lips gently around the one she'd burned, kissing it slowly until she moaned.

"Sorry," he whispered, a gleam in his eye.

"That was mean, Charlie. You're teasing me – I can't even _move,_ let alone -"

"Shhh, I know," he said. "But I couldn't resist." He rested his forehead against hers and felt her shake her head slowly.

"It's going to be a long couple of months," she said regretfully, and he hummed in agreement. "I'm not sure having you by my side all the time is a good idea, if just a little kiss makes me feel like _that."_

"Too bad," he said softly, "because I'm not going anywhere."

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Okay," she accepted, and he sat back in his seat to allow her to finish eating.

"How's Daisy?" she asked after a moment. "Is she alright, really?"

Charles nodded. "She seems to be. We talked quite a bit last night, about a variety of things," he hedged.

"Charles?" Elsie knew something was up, but wasn't quite catching on. "What is it? Tell me."

He took another sip of tea before setting the cup and saucer back on the little table. "Alright, I will. I was going to wait but, knowing you, you'd refuse to sleep or something until I answered."

"Now I'm worried." Elsie reached for the spoon, tilting it back and forth on the tray with her fingertip. "Is she angry with me?" she whispered, her voice catching.

"What? No! Whatever makes you say that?" he asked.

"It must have scared the shit out of her, Charles, seeing it all happen before her. And she was so brave. She saved me, it's all down to her that I made it out of that as well as I did. If I'd been left unconscious, had passed out or stayed longer, had tried to move without assistance, even …" Her tears spilled over. "She was so strong, and I feel that her efforts came with a heavy price tag."

"She was in shock, I think, but it was a _good_ shock, Els. She realized that she could do it. She was terrified, but she swallowed it down and made things happen – called for help, spoke to the paramedic, locked up and fetched your keys, thought to call upon Mary. She did it all, and it showed her that she doesn't have to hide away when bad things happen."

"But she won't want to be here, won't want to be reminded." Then something else occurred to her. "Oh, God … please tell me she's not afraid of the horses now."

"Well," Charles allowed, "she won't go near Star, but under the circumstances that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"He was just spooked. Not ready. But I _thought_ he was. It could have been Daisy on him, Charles – could have been _her_ who'd been thrown. She'd have been hurt worse than I." She couldn't continue, she was too distraught at the very thought of that.

"Elsie," he murmured, rising from his seat and sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. He wrapped his arm around her gently and kissed her on the top of her head. "Don't. She's fine. She's a bit afraid of Star, but not of being here. She's more afraid of you," he finally said, and her head flew up.

"Me? Why in the world is she afraid of _me?"_

He took a deep breath. "I wasn't even going to tell you, but perhaps you should know so that _you_ can talk to her. She's afraid you blame her."

"What? That doesn't make any sense, Charles. _Daisy_ didn't scare Star."

"I know, and she knows that, but she still feels like she could have … I don't know, maybe not wanted to ride that day? Not looked forward to riding him as much as she did? She seems to think you pushed for that because she wanted it."

Elsie shook her head. "No, that's not it at all! He was adopted with the intent of turning him into a therapy horse. Jamie's been working with him for quite a while now. She thought he was ready months ago, but we still waited. It was such a fluke that he spooked when I brought him out the other day, but it could have happened at any time. I don't even think now that it meant he wasn't _ready_ – he could have just seen a mouse or something. He's a horse, Charles, and horses do those things once in a while."

"I know," he insisted. "But when _I_ told her that, Daisy didn't believe me. I think she needs to have _you_ explain it all, and that might help. But it can wait -"

"No," she interrupted him, placing her hand on his leg, "it cannot wait. Bring her in to see me when she gets here, wake me if you need to. She and I need to talk about this _now._ I won't have her feeling guilty at all, not for a minute longer than she has to."

"I knew you'd say that," he admitted, "but I want you to rest. We need to find a compromise."

"I need a shower," Elsie said suddenly. "Let me finish breakfast and get cleaned up. Then, perhaps, she can come home and chat with me, with _us,_ and we can at least try to get her straightened out. And _then_ I'll sleep, I promise." She glanced at the clock. "It's only just gone ten, I've got all day – and days upon days after that – to rest."

"I'll agree to that on one condition: I shower _with_ you. Nothing like that," he said upon seeing the smirk on her mouth, "but I don't want you falling or straining to wash your hair. It's the only way, Elsie, until you've built up a bit of strength."

She sighed, knowing she'd lose this particular fight. "Fine."

Charles gave her a quick nod, then left the bed. "Finish up," he said, indicating her tray with a flick of his finger. "I'll be back in a bit."

Elsie just shook her head at him before reaching down to take a bite of her egg. _Daft man,_ she thought. _But I love him._

True to his promise, Charles helped Elsie into the shower – which, thankfully, was a walk-in – and got her undressed and settled on the chair before stripping his own clothes off.

"Behave," he said to Elsie, seeing her watch him. "I'll struggle enough with this, love, but if you start then I'm done for."

"I know, and I appreciate it. I really do."

He climbed in and stood behind her, then reached to turn on the water.

"Good?" he asked, holding out the hand-held showerhead to her, and she nodded when she felt the water.

The next ten minutes were spent in silence. Elsie's head was hurting and she didn't want to try to hold up a conversation; Charles sensed this, and spent his time making sure every inch of her skin was scrubbed and rinsed before he reached for the shampoo. He lathered it through her long hair, massaging her scalp in the process. Elsie let a few moans escape her mouth as she reveled in the attention, in his touch that managed to be loving in a non-sexual way. _Thank God._

"That feels amazing," she whispered.

"Good," he replied quietly as he reached for the showerhead again. He rinsed her hair, then repeated the process with her conditioner.

"I love this," he admitted. "It's intimate without being _intimate,"_ he explained.

"I love _you,"_ she replied, and she leaned her head over to kiss his arm. "Thank you for this, for taking care of me. You're quite the home health aide, I must admit."

By eleven, Elsie was dressed in clean pajamas and set back up in bed. Charles had insisted on brushing and drying her hair, and she'd allowed it, astonished by the gentle touch he'd shown through the entire process. He left her hair loose around her shoulders at her request, understanding she'd sleep more comfortably that way. Charles texted Mary and asked her to drop Daisy off whenever they were ready. They arrived at Elsie's about half an hour later, by which point Elsie had just taken one of her pain pills.

"Elsie?"

Elsie looked up to see Daisy's head peeking around the door. She reached her hand out and beckoned Daisy to come in, and the girl complied.

"Daisy," she whispered, taking her hand. "Come on, up here," she added, patting the space in the bed that she'd made for her. "We have to talk, darling."

The tip of Daisy's tongue stuck out – her own little nervous habit, Elsie remembered – but she nodded and complied, trying to climb in gently so as not to hurt Elsie.

"Are you okay?" Daisy whispered.

"I am, thanks to you," Elsie replied. She leaned over and kissed Daisy's temple. "You were so brave, my dear."

Daisy shook her head. "I wasn't," she whispered. "They answered my call, and I couldn't say anything at first. I knew they weren't Papa, or you, and …" She started to cry. "… I was so _scared,"_ she whispered. "I didn't feel brave at all. I was shaking, and didn't know what to tell them … I couldn't talk ..."

"But, Daisy, you _did_ speak to them! You told them everything you were supposed to: where we were, my name, what had happened. You kept talking to _me_ to keep me from falling asleep – _that_ was incredibly important. And then you were able to call your Papa and everything! You were _remarkable!"_

"I didn't feel it," Daisy whispered. "I felt terrified, like a coward. I didn't know what to do."

"Well, what you did was wonderful. You may have saved my life, do you know that? If you'd not been there, I'd likely have passed out. You got Star secured in his stall, too, didn't you?"

Daisy nodded.

"That was very good thinking," Elsie encouraged her. "He could have trampled me in his anxiety if I'd been alone. That alone was an amazing thing you did."

"I didn't think of that myself, though, he just ran in there," Daisy admitted.

"But you thought to slide the bolt on the door," Elsie pointed out.

"I guess."

Elsie sighed, and squeezed Daisy closer to her. "I know you were terrified, and I'm so sorry that happened. I feel guilty myself, you know."

Daisy looked up at her with wide eyes. "Why? It's not _your_ fault Star was spooked! And I watched – you tried to hold on."

"It's not _your_ fault, either, Daisy. You want to know what I think? I think you were afraid because something bad happened, because bad things have happened to you before, and you're starting to think that it has something to do with _you."_

"How do you know that?" Daisy's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes filled with terror. "How?" she repeated.

Elsie bit her lip for a moment, trying to think of how to explain herself without going into too much detail.

"When I was a young girl, I was a great deal like you, Daisy. Smart, funny, good at school. But, well, sometimes things happened at home that I couldn't control. Bad things. And I often felt that it was my fault, not because I'd _done_ anything, but because I couldn't _stop_ them from happening."

Daisy nodded in wonder, not wanting to imagine what awful things Elsie had seen when she was a little girl, but unable to stop herself.

"Did your parents fight a lot, too?" she asked, startling Elsie a bit.

"They did," she answered, "but my Da was nothing like yours. He was mean, and he used to hurt my Mam quite a bit."

"And you? Or Becky?" she asked.

Elsie shook her head, a little fib that she would never regret as long as she lived. Daisy didn't have to know _everything,_ after all.

"Good," Daisy said with a little nod.

"But I used to wish I could do something to stop it, even though it was out of my control. It took me many years to realize that wasn't _logical_ – I'd moved away and become an adult myself before I knew that."

She paused, and Daisy snuggled in a bit closer, hugging Elsie gently without squeezing her back very much at all. "Does that hurt?" she asked, just to be sure.

"No, I'm fine," Elsie smiled.

"I know what you're trying to say," Daisy told her. "That it's not my fault Mummy and Papa used to fight, that it's not my fault that she … that she died. Or that you got hurt. But it _feels_ like it, sometimes, because it all happens to _me."_

"I know, sweetheart. I know. But it's _not your fault._ Your job isn't to take care of the adults in your life, any more than mine was when I was your age. And yet you _did_ take care of me. You spoke to people you'd never met, told them everything they needed to know, and managed better than many adults would have done in your situation. I owe you so much, you know. I can't have you feeling guilty for that, okay?"

Daisy nodded. "Okay." A huge yawn escaped her mouth, and Elsie's own yawn followed, making them giggle.

"Didn't sleep much last night, did you?" Elsie whispered.

"Nope," Daisy said, yawning again. "Bad dreams."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Elsie asked. "How about we both take a little nap, hm?"

Elsie felt Daisy nod and encouraged her to sit up. Daisy then helped Elsie to scoot down a bit, and readjusted her pillow before putting another one next to Elsie's pile.

"Good?" Elsie asked, and Daisy nodded. "Alright, then."

"What's this, now? Is it nap time and no one told me?"

Daisy raised her head to see Charles looking in on them. "Yup," she said simply, and he chuckled.

"And no room for me?" he teased.

"Nope."

Elsie laughed at that. "Sorry, buster. Last man standing gets to do the dishes. No nap for you."

"I see how this is going to be," Charles quipped, feigning disappointment with a pout that would have made a toddler jealous. "Ganging up on me."

"Yup," Daisy giggled, snuggling into Elsie's side a bit. Elsie leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"What the matter, Charles?" Elsie asked, seeing a peculiar look come over his face.

He made his way to her side of the bed, then leaned in and gave her a sweet, albeit short-lived, kiss, not worried one bit that Daisy was there to see it. "I think my heart just exploded, seeing you both snuggled in there," he said.

Elsie hummed a reply, and rested her head on Daisy's. "I'm tired," she admitted.

"May I stay, Papa?" Daisy asked, yawning again. "And I get a kiss, too."

"You may, and you certainly do," he laughed, coming around the other side and peppering her face with small kisses, tickling her in the process until she moved too much. He didn't want her to jostle Elsie, and he stopped immediately.

"Are we staying here?" Daisy asked. "I mean, may we?"

Elsie and Charles shared a surprised look, and he smiled. "Well, it would certainly be easier," he said. "What would you think?"

Daisy nodded immediately. "Yes, I think it would be good. I love it here, Papa. I've already got my stuff in the other room."

"It may be for quite a while," he said hesitantly.

"That's okay. I don't want to go back to Aunt Mary's place, not if we can stay here."

"Well, then," he said, smiling at his girls. "That's settled, then."

He leaned over and pulled up the quilt, straightening the folds as he tucked them both in.

"I expect sweet dreams, ladies. And ring this when you wake up," he added, setting the bell on the nightstand.

"Will do, Mr. Carson," Elsie smiled. "Now leave us alone – we're exhausted."

He left the room, chuckling as he went. As he turned to close the door he saw Elsie shift a bit, moving her arm so that Daisy could get more comfortable. He stood there staring at them with a grin on his face until he was sure they were both fast asleep.

A cold nose on his hand startled him, and he turned to see Max wagging his tail.

"Let's go, then," he said to the dog, closing Elsie's door as he petted Max on the head. "A short walk, then maybe we can each have a few biscuits, alright?"

Max bounded off toward the doorway, where he pulled his leash off the hook. He padded back to Charles and dropped the leash at his feet.

"I guess that's a 'yes,'" Charles said, laughing as he clipped the leash. "I feel like I'm the one being trained here," he added with an eyebrow raised as he looked at the dog.

The gleam in Max's eye told him he was absolutely correct.

 ** _What if everything we're looking for_**

 ** _Is right here within our reach?_**

 ** _Because love is all we've ever wanted_**

 ** _Love is the reason we're still here …_**

* * *

 *** A/N: These injuries and the methods used for recovery are 100% based in fact, from my aunt's fall from her horse, also named Star. The medication, brace, recovery timeframe, x-rays, leg issues, etc. are entirely her story.**

 ****Against Medical Advice.**


	29. Visitors

**A/N: Recovery time for Elsie - slow and steady wins the race. (It's a turtle joke ... for Elsie ... never mind.) ;)**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise for catching several foolish typos of mine, and for general encouragement.**

 **This chapter and the next one (or two) will track Elsie's recovery. As mentioned before, my sole source for research purposes is my aunt, who really had such an accident and gave me the sordid details, everything from her "turtle shell" brace to PT and meds. Bless those of you who have asked after her - she is, indeed, quite well these days. xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Sunday, March 1, 2015**_

Elsie heard the rooster crow and opened her eyes slowly, unsure of whether or not she'd really been asleep at all. The entire weekend was a blur, a hazy existence from which only two things stood out clearly: her conversation with Daisy, and her awareness that she was now, unofficially, engaged to be married to Charles ... at some point as yet undetermined, to be sure, but engaged nonetheless. For the time being, it would be their little secret, one which she'd mull over and roll around her brain as the hours dragged on interminably over the next many days.

She trained her eyes on the ceiling, counting for the millionth time the dropped-tile squares that comprised it. Eleven by thirteen, one-hundred-forty-one in total. Two were stained from last year's ice dam and would need to be replaced; one that she'd already replaced didn't quite match the shade of white of the other one-hundred-forty squares. She rolled her head slightly to the side, her pillow's height not doing much to increase the range of vision that lying flat on the bed would have afforded, and she attempted to peer out the window. But she knew already that she'd see nothing, that the drawn curtain and pulled shade were blocking all but the smallest sliver of light from entering.

She heard the sound of an approaching car, and smiled.

 _Anna. And John, likely._

She sent up a prayer for Anna Smith. Goodness knows the young woman had been hurtled full-force into managing the animals and the farm itself, first by covering for Elsie's vacation to England and then, quite suddenly, because of the accident. Elsie had put in a sum total of three days' work in the middle of the two events, and thanked her stars that she'd at least gotten all of the billing and supply orders and upcoming appointments in shape for the month ahead. Beryl used to tease her for being so on top of things, but Elsie had always planned ahead.

 _Good thing, because you never know when you'll suffer a life-altering accident, do you?_

Sure enough, the sound of two car doors being shut confirmed Elsie's suspicion that Anna was joined by John Bates for this morning's round of chores. It was Sunday, after all, and Elsie suspected Anna would want to be out twice as fast in order to make it to church. Elsie didn't even have to look outside to know how it would be playing out: John's limp would make the uneven boards in the barn difficult for him to navigate, particularly when carrying things, so Anna would undoubtedly task him with seeing to the chickens - collecting eggs, filling feed, checking water, and adjusting temperature in the coop. Anna, on the other hand, would take care of hay, horse feed, and a snack for each of the horses (knowing Anna, an apple _and_ a peppermint each - she did spoil them), and she'd likely spend a few extra moments checking up on Scarlett as well.

About a half hour later, it was the faint sound of voices, followed by the two car doors shutting and the starting of an engine, that made Elsie reach for her phone. She'd left it by her hip for easy access, and it vibrated in her hand about thirty seconds after she picked it up.

 _I know you're up. Everyone's all set. Scarlett seems better, temp at 99 - perfect. Happy to see me, tail twitching. Changed blankets, will muck out this afternoon. xx A & J_

Elsie moved her thumb over the screen to type a quick reply, managing very little but what she knew would be enough:

 _OK. TY both. Visit pls! Going crazy. xo E_

She dropped the phone by her hip again and closed her eyes, drifting off into what she hoped would at least be another hour's worth of sleep before Charles and Daisy were up.

* * *

Contrary to what she'd expected, Elsie slept seven hours after Anna and John had left the farm that morning. She was finally woken by the sound of voices coming from the kitchen: One belonged to Charles, and it made her heart flutter to listen to his deep baritone, and the other was most definitely Beryl's.

" … _she can start the first book when she's ready."_

" _Thank you. Alright, Beryl … Where am I supposed to put all of **this,** exactly?" Charles asked, sounding incredulous._

" _Well, most of it should fit in the fridge, and she's got a deep freezer downstairs," came Beryl's soft answer. "And can't you whisper? That voice will wake the dead, let alone Elsie."_

" _How's this?" he replied, somewhat more quietly._

 _Sigh. "I suppose it'll have to do. Now, in those bags you've got all the staples: milk, juice, cereal, and the like. There's fruit and yogurt in case she wants a smoothie, too - good Greek yogurt, because she'll need protein."_

" _Got it." Something rustled … "What's this, then?"_

 _"Aw, Daisy needed something sweet now, didn't she?" Beryl said lovingly. "It's only a small batch of my brownies, Charlie boy - relax, why don't you? And don't eat them all on her."_

 _Charles sighed. "And there's bread in here, too?"_

" _Yes," Beryl said. "I just baked it this morning, and I ran it through the slicer at the restaurant. You should be all set for a few days there."_

" _You're a godsend, Beryl, you really are," Charles rumbled, and Elsie heard him place a kiss to Beryl's cheek._

" _Nonsense," her friend replied softly. "Just making sure you don't need to leave our girl's side for anything."_

" _I wasn't planning to, you know."_

" _No, I didn't think you would. I'll be going, but will check in later. I'll see myself out, alright?"_

 _"Take care. Send our love to the family."_

 _"Will do."_

The sound of footsteps approached and Elsie's door opened slowly, creaking at the halfway point as it had done for years.

"Charlie?" she whispered, her throat dry and scratchy.

"Good morning - or, rather, good afternoon," came his soft reply. His large form soon materialized next to the bed, and he reached over to brush her hair from her forehead before leaning down to place a kiss to her lips. "How do you feel?"

"Like hell," she replied. "But I finally got some sleep. I need to use the loo."

"I figured as much," he chuckled. "Alright, then, up you go."

Charles leaned down and reached his arms behind her back, keeping it as straight as possible as he shifted her toward the edge of the bed. From there he helped her scoot her legs over the side, and he supported her under her arms so she could stand up, wrapping his arms around her gently as she sort of fell forward onto him, chest to chest.

"I feel idiotic," she grumbled into his collarbone, and he chuckled softly.

"I know. But I'm glad I'm here," he said, and she smiled before lifting her head to look at him.

"Me too. And you smell amazing, did you know that?"

"I did not, but I thank you. Beryl just left; perhaps I should have asked _her_ to do this before she headed out?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, I don't think so. You and I are going to have to negotiate this ultimate embarrassment at some point, as she and Isobel can't be here _every_ time I have to use the bathroom. We might as well tackle it now."

"Alright, then, here we go." He managed to maneuver her into the bathroom and get her standing over by the toilet, but then his discomfort set in.

"I just need you to sort of … spot me, like a gymnast?" She blushed, and realized he was doing the same. But Isobel had brought over some sort of contraption that sat around the toilet, with handles that Elsie could grab to support her weight as she lowered herself onto the seat, and she wanted to attempt it herself.

"Do you need me to … well, _pull down_ anything?" he asked, completely mortified. It was rather different from any _other_ conversations they'd had in the past about her underclothing.

"I do not, as it so happens - it was Isobel's brilliant suggestion that I forego those. So I'm fine if you just help me to hike up the nightdress, then perhaps be ready to catch me if I can't manage to sit without help."

He did as she asked, and then turned around once her bottom hit the seat.

"I'll, um … here," he said, reaching around the corner and retrieving the bell, which he handed to Elsie. "I don't feel comfortable standing right outside the door while you do … whatever. Just ring when you've finished and I'll come help you up, alright?"

Elsie sighed with relief. "Yes, thank you." She rolled her eyes. "This is ridiculous, and I'm ever so sorry to burden you with it."

Charles turned in the doorway and looked back at her ... seated on the toilet, nightdress bunched up around her waist, hair a mess, and a bell with a snarky quote in her hand.

"You'll never be a burden to me, Elsie," he rumbled. "You must never think that. In sickness and in health, remember?" He smiled lovingly at her, a smile which she returned.

"Well, this _is_ definitely the bottom of the barrel," she quipped.

"Would you do the same for me?"

"In a heartbeat," she whispered.

"Well, then … alright." He pointed at the bell. "Ring when you're ready."

She nodded. "Will do."

* * *

An hour later, thanks to Charles, Elsie was showered and dressed in a clean nightdress. He attempted to braid her hair but gave up after several laughable tries, and he ended up just blowing it dry before helping her back into bed.

Charles had made her some soup, which she was eating slowly, having drawn the line at him feeding it to her spoonful by spoonful. He'd propped her up with another couple of pillows, with the promise that she'd lie flat again once she was finished eating.

"Mary stopped by the beach house today. She's stopping by in a bit with more of Daisy's things," he said, glancing at his phone. "By two o'clock, she says."

"Fabulous," Elsie grumbled.

"Try to be nice," he chided.

"Oh, I will. But I highly doubt she has any desire to actually talk to me, not after that entire experience at Robert and Cora's. We've not spoken since then, not that we had any reason to. And yet she'll feel obligated to pop her head in when she's here, to wish me well. She does things properly, your goddaughter."

"She does, but I have no doubt she'll be the epitome of kindness," he rumbled, missing Elsie's roll of the eyes.

"I'm sure."

He put on his reading glasses and turned back to his book, reading silently as she finished her lunch. When he heard the spoon clink in the empty bowl, he marked his page and set the book aside.

"All set, then?"

Elsie nodded. "Mm, thank you. You look rather dashing in those, by the way. I don't know if I've ever told you," she said, indicating the glasses.

"You're crazy, you know. I don't know if _I've_ ever told _you."_

She shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?" she asked fondly.

"Nothing for about ten weeks, sadly," he quipped, and she reached out to swat him, missing by a wide swath as he backed up quickly.

"Ow," she said, the motion having made her body twinge in anger.

"On that note, it's medication time, I think," he said. "Here we are." He popped the top off of both bottles, but Elsie shook her head.

"Not the Vicodin, not yet," she insisted. "We've got Mary stopping by soon and I'm going to need to check in with Anna later this afternoon. I have to be conscious for both of those things."

"Elsie …" Charles warned, and she cut him off.

" _No."_ Her eyes flashed, and he relented.

"Fine. But once Anna leaves, you _will_ take something for the pain. By then you'll be sick to death of staring at the ceiling and will welcome the sleep."

She acquiesced. "Probably. Oh, did I hear Beryl say something about books?"

"Ah, yes, you did. She'll be sorry she missed out on chatting with you, but you were fast asleep. She snuck in and borrowed your phone when she first got here, uploaded a bunch of audio books to it. Something about some vampire series you'd mentioned never having read?"

"Sookie Stackhouse?" Elsie asked, her eyes lighting up as she smiled.

"Yes, I think that's the one," he agreed.

"Oh, bless her! There are tons of those, it'll take weeks to get through the whole series." She teared up, shaking her head slightly when Charles sent her a worried look.

"I'm fine," she mumbled wiping her eyes. "Just … it's the damn medication, you know. Emotions all over the place."

"I do … just checking, though," he said, handing her a Kleenex.

"Thanks."

She took the one pill he offered and swallowed it down with some water, then handed him the empty glass and asked for her earbuds. He got her all hooked up and helped her find the first book in the series on the list of titles.

"This sounds perfectly hideous," he said, reading the description.

"Vampires and love, Charlie - what's wrong with that?"

He rolled his eyes, making her laugh. "Opposites attract," he mumbled. "I'll just be over here, reading a _quality_ book, thank you."

"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'll be fine nearly flat on my back for the afternoon."

"Would you mind if I did, though?" he asked, and she smiled at him again.

"Of course not."

"Good." He got up and moved the chair up alongside the bed. He crossed one leg over the other and opened the book up on his knee, then held it with his left hand as he grasped Elsie's hand in his right. He lifted hers and placed a kiss to her fingers; she squeezed his hand in reply before bringing it back to her side.

Thus settled, each dove into their own books, awaiting Mary's inevitable arrival within the hour.

Ten minutes later, however, Elsie's phone rang.

"It's Edith," she said, surprised. She slid the phone icon over to answer; due to the earbuds, though, Charles managed to hear only Elsie's side of the conversation. He considered himself lucky - he _loathed_ speakerphone.

"Edith! How are you feeling? … Good, good … Yeah, you know it! … Oh, goodness, I'd not even thought of that, I'm so sorry to leave you- … No, no, I _know_ it's not my fault … Do you have someone in mind? … Oh, heavens, I'd forgotten he was trained as a medic. So he has the right credentials? … I see, yes, of course … Sounds good to me. You know I'll be available to answer any questions he has … Oh, of course he will ... No, I don't mind ... Yeah, it's not a creative one, I'm afraid … Joe 09 23 1961 … I know, but I'm rubbish at those ... I will … Alright, and do keep me posted … Love you, too. Make sure you're eating … Okay … I will … Bye."

She hung up the phone and pulled her earbuds out. "Edith says hi," she said softly, and Charles hummed, clearly lost in some thought or other.

"Charlie?"

"'Joe 09 23 1961?'"

Elsie flushed a deep red. "It's only my- _Wait._ How'd you memorize that?"

"Elsie."

She sighed. "It's my password to access my files at work. I … well, I never changed it. It was easy to remember, you know."

"He was older than I thought," Charles said, surprising her.

"Yes, well … we never discussed his age, I suppose. Does it matter?"

"No, of course not." He fiddled with the corner of the page he was reading, a sure sign of his discomfort.

She looked at him nervously. "I _can_ change it," she whispered. "As soon as I get back, I can- "

But he just shook his head, his brow furrowed. "No, don't bother."

"Charlie?" she asked again. "I'm sorry if it upset you, I … I just forgot about it, I enter it without even thinking."

"I know."

Elsie bit her lip, unsure of what had just happened but feeling like it may have been significant. "I'm sorry."

He rose from the chair and set down his book. "Don't be," he told her.

Charles made his way to the other side of the bed and climbed in slowly, cognizant of not wanting to move her body. He lay down on his side, his head resting on his hand, his elbow making a soft dent in the mattress. He reached out and cupped her cheek, then leaned down and kissed her rather passionately - _possessively,_ Elsie thought, and it sparked something deep within her.

"I'm sorry," she said again when they broke apart.

"I know, and there's no need. It just took me by surprise is all."

"I could tell. I hope that kiss is a sign that I'm forgiven?" she added breathlessly.

"Els, there's nothing to forgive. Just me being foolish. You know, sometimes I forget we were ever even _with_ other people. It sounds ridiculous, but sometimes I feel as though I've had you in my life forever."

She gave him a tired smile. "Kiss me again, like that, please? Just, you know … to be _sure_ that I'm forgiven."

"My pleasure," he said, leaning in.

Elsie closed her eyes as she felt his lips descend upon hers once more, and all thoughts of passwords and accidents and medication and being immobile disappeared from her mind, replaced by the vibration of his lips as he moaned into her mouth, the feel of his tongue as it swept over the top of her own, and the sensation of the muscles in his arm, how they tightened when she wrapped her fingers around his bicep, realizing for the first time that he was now holding his body over hers instead of simply lying beside her.

The sound of Max's bark snapped them back to reality.

"Aunt Mary!" Daisy's voice sounded from the hallway. "Come in - Papa's in Elsie's bedroom."

Elsie and Charles dissolved into fits of laughter as they realized simultaneously how that sounded.

"She's early. I'd best go out and see her," he whispered to Elsie, placing one last kiss to the tip of her nose as he rose from the bed. "And you're a bit flushed, just so you know."

"Ha! Yes, I'm sure. Charlie?" she called as he was headed out the door.

He turned. "Yes?"

She smiled at him softly. "I love you."

"Mm. Good thing … I love you, too, you see."

"Yes, I gathered," she replied, winking at him. "Now go, and visit with your niece."

Charles headed out to see Mary with an enormous grin on his face, one which she spied immediately and which caused her to smirk.

"Uncle Charlie," she greeted him warmly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "My, don't you look happy," she added in a whisper.

"I am _extraordinarily_ happy, and I thank you for noticing," he said, helping her out of her coat and hanging it by the door. "Tea?"

"Mm, that would be wonderful. I've brought some more of Daisy's things," Mary replied, pointing to the bag and basket on the floor. "They're all clean, just need to be put away."

"Thanks for that."

"Papa," Daisy said, coming into the kitchen. "Max wants to go for a walk - may I bring him?"

"Of course, petal," Charles said. "Not too far, though."

"No, just to the end of the drive, and then we can play fetch in the yard."

"Perfect. Bundle up!"

She rolled her eyes, earning her a stern look from both Charles and Mary.

"Sorry," she grumbled. "I will - scarf, mittens, boots, coat, hat."

"Good girl," Charles praised her, kissing the top of her head. "Off you go!"

Charles poured the tea and he and Mary chatted for a bit, but he could tell she seemed restless.

"Mary? What is it? You seem like you're off with the fairies."

She sighed. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, or that I don't wish to sit and visit with you, but I was hoping to speak with _Elsie_ while I was here. Do you mind?"

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, eyebrows raised. "She's awake, listening to some vampire something or other that Beryl got for her. Just knock, she'll hear you. Mind you, she's not got a lot of energy, and is in need of some pain medication which she refuses to take until Anna shows up in … " He glanced at his watch. "... another hour."

"Oh, I won't need that long, and I certainly don't want to tire her out."

"You won't."

"Very good," she replied, standing. She brought her teacup to the sink and deposited it in the basin. "I'll be out in a bit," she added, communicating the fact that she'd prefer to speak with Elsie alone.

"Of course."

Mary made her way down the hall, glancing as she did so at the items hanging on the wall. Elsie's house felt homey in a way that the Grantham estate and the Carlisles' house never did: pictures of family on the walls, papers held on the refrigerator with magnets, an Ansel Adams calendar hanging over the dog's dish. It made her smile, though with amusement or fondness she couldn't say.

 _Knock, knock._ "Elsie?" she called out softly.

Elsie pulled the earbuds from her ear, the audio book having been on softly as Elsie had expected Mary to pop in.

"Come in," she called, and Mary entered, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Please, sit," Elsie said, indicating the chair Charles had occupied with a flick of her hand. "I'm sorry I can't sit up myself," she added.

"Oh, don't be silly," Mary said, brushing off Elsie's comment as she sat. "How do you feel? How do you _really_ feel _,_ not that nonsense you're likely giving Daisy, and maybe even Uncle Charlie?"

Elsie looked over to Mary's ice-blue eyes and chuckled. "Like shit," she said simply, "and, at times, like I'm losing my damn mind lying in this bed."

Mary nodded. "I suspected as much. What an awful thing … I'm so sorry for what you're going through," she replied.

Elsie was startled to see the kindness behind the woman's remark. "Indeed," she managed. "I thank you for taking such good care of Daisy - and Charles, I'm sure - when I was in hospital."

"You don't need to thank me, Elsie. They're my family," Mary said simply.

"Mine, too," Elsie replied, the softness somewhat gone from her voice. Mary looked up, and met Elsie's firm gaze. She tilted her head in the older woman's direction, a silent acknowledgement of the truth in Elsie's comment.

"I wanted - _needed_ \- to apologize. For what happened at my parents' home, for the … situation … in which you found me," Mary said meekly. She looked down and clasped her hands together in her lap and continued, her voice softened by something that Elsie was fairly certain was shame. "It was not something that should have happened there, and Richard realizes that now."

"It was not something that should _ever_ have happened _anywhere,"_ Elsie said vehemently.

Mary's head shot back up. "You'll excuse me, I'm sure, if I come across as rude when I'm here in _your_ home, but it's really none of your business. I only wanted to apologize for your ending up in an uncomfortable situation."

"It was not an _uncomfortable_ situation, Mary, it was an _impossible_ one. Now, I'm not going to lie here and pretend I didn't hear what I heard. That man is holding something over you. I don't need to know what it is, but you need to realize that it's _wrong_ of him to do that! And he clearly feels he can take liberties with your safety …"

" _Enough,"_ Mary whispered harshly. "You don't know anything about it, so please, just drop it."

"I'd be happy to. Your uncle, on the other hand, isn't quite so keen." Elsie tilted her head slightly on her pillow, affording her a better look at Mary. "He was absolutely furious, Mary. I've never seen him in such a state and doubt I shall again. Not anytime soon, at least."

"That was because Richard threatened _you,"_ Mary said softly.

"Partly, but also because he could have harmed _you._ Don't play this game with me, Mary - we're both too smart for it and you know it. Charlie worships the ground you walk on."

She paused, wondering if she dared to continue, and then forged ahead.

"Why?" Elsie asked softly.

"Why would he threaten you?" Mary asked.

"No. Why did you marry him?"

Mary's quick intake of breath was the only sign that Elsie had shocked her; had it not been so quiet in the house with Daisy and Max outside, Elsie was certain she'd have missed it.

"That's a rather forward question, Elsie, given that we barely know one another."

"I'm a rather forward person, Mary. And as it appears we shall be running into one another more frequently, and as you are important to Charles, I would hope we could become more civil toward one another as time goes on. I understand you, Mary; in many ways, we're very alike, you and I. Intelligent, determined, making a life in a place that's far from our original home. Fiercely loyal to family - overprotective, even. But I don't understand why you _ever_ married a man like Richard Carlisle."

Mary took a deep breath, then shook her head slightly. "And you probably never will," she murmured.

"Whatever he is holding over you, Mary, it's not worth more than your happiness. Or your sanity."

"Well, you couldn't possibly be in a position to make that call, could you?"

"It's not worth your _life._ I think we're all in a position to make _that_ call."

Mary stood up and reached up to readjust her scarf, looking down at it as she spoke. "My life is not in danger, Elsie. Don't be ridiculous."

"I don't think I am," Elsie insisted.

Mary moved toward the door, then turned. "Well, we'll have to respectfully disagree, then. I do hope you feel better soon, Elsie, truly. But please don't worry about me, or my husband, or my marriage. Everything is just as it should be." And, with that, she turned again and left Elsie's room.

Charles managed to catch the last few words Mary said, as she'd been standing in the doorway when she uttered them. "Mary?"

She looked up swiftly. "Uncle Charlie. Well, you must be quite the nursemaid," Mary said, a slightly-forced smile upon her pale face. "Elsie looks as comfortable as she could be, given the circumstances, and seems well taken care of."

Charles clasped his hands behind his back as he walked her to the door. "I'm trying," he said, "but I'm definitely learning as I go. It's much different, caring for an adult. Nothing like when Daisy was ill and I had to care for her. Of course, the lack of mobility is a challenge of a completely different kind."

"I'm sure. Daisy mentioned something about a brace?"

"Mm, we go in tomorrow for her to get that. Has to be fitted a bit, but she'll come home with it immediately. I gather it's an immobilizer of some sort, but wearing it will enable her to be a bit more confident moving about. I think she'll be in it six weeks, they said. And it should help with the pain in her leg, too, as it'll keep everything steady."

"My goodness," Mary whispered. "She truly _is_ lucky."

They reached the doorway and Charles helped Mary with her coat. "That she is," he said, his voice thick with emotion. It gave Mary pause, and she turned to look him in the eyes.

"Uncle Charlie? Are you alright?"

"I am," he said, smiling as he nodded. "I just … I'm not sure what I'd have done if it had been worse, you know?"

"Well, you've gone through that before, I suppose."

"Yes … and no. It was different with your Aunt Alice, and I know _you_ understand that." He looked at her pointedly, and she deflected her gaze so that she was staring out the windowpane of the front door.

"Perhaps," she whispered. "But I _am_ glad you and Daisy have found happiness with Elsie, I really am. You deserve it."

"So do you," he replied. "Mary, may I ask you something?"

"Certainly," she answered, turning to face him again.

"Elsie has a sister, a woman named Becky."

"Yes, Daisy mentioned something about that to me, actually. Said she lives not far from here."

"Exactly. But, when we were at your parents' house, that night in the gallery, _Richard_ mentioned something about her."

"About Elsie's sister?" Mary asked, her furrowed brow making her squint slightly.

"Yes, I was … puzzled, I suppose, but Elsie was well and truly shocked. Do you have any idea how he might know her?"

Mary just shook her head, a blank look on her face. "None whatsoever. Becky - Hughes, I presume?"

"Mm-hm."

"I have no idea. Did he … What did he say?" she asked, the slight change in her wording not unnoticed by her uncle.

"He told her to say hello to Becky, from him," Charles said, remembering back to that strange, frightening night.

"How odd." She cocked her head for a moment, then made a split-second decision. "I'll see what I can find out, though," she added. "Under the radar, as it were."

"Now, Mary, I was only asking. I don't mean to get you involved in anything against your husband," he said, chastising himself mentally for lying; in truth, he wished she'd go _completely_ against her husband, but had no desire to say so at the moment. He had a nagging suspicion that Elsie had already given it to her in spades.

But Mary's attention was focused out the window once again. Charles sensed she was searching for something, some bit of information she had filed away in her mind.

"He's got private files," she said softly. "He doesn't allow me access to them, but I know where there's a key."

"Mary …" he warned, waving his hand in front of himself, a nervous gesture he'd had for as long as he could remember.

"No, it's alright," she said. "I'll only have a peek, and only when he's next out of town - which is Tuesday or Wednesday, I think, when he's got that journalism convention in New York. If he knows her from something … clandestine, he'll have kept proof of it."

"Like .. blackmail? Surely not."

She moved closer and kissed him on the cheek as she squeezed his hand. "I'll let you know what I find, if anything at all."

"I'm not even sure I should thank you," he said, still a bit nervous about what she was saying - and what she was _not_ saying, as well.

"Don't. Not yet. I'll be in touch."

And, with that, she left.

Charles saw Anna's car pulling up the driveway as Mary's pulled out. He waved, and Anna waved back, and he waited for her to come up the walkway so that he could hold the door open for her.

"Was that Mary?" Anna asked, her breath making a cloud of steam in the cold, outdoor air.

"It was. She brought some of Daisy's things by," he said. "Elsie's in her room - head on down, and I'll bring you both some tea and something to eat. Did you happen to see Daisy and Max out there?"

"I did - they're in the barn, and Daisy said they'd be in shortly." She pointed down the hall. "You're sure she's awake?"

"Oh, yes," he chuckled. "Refused to self-medicate until she settled business with you. But she'll need something in her stomach, so be sure she eats at least a bit, alright?"

Anna nodded. "You got it. I may look small and meek," she quipped, "but I can be mighty when needed."

Charles laughed loudly at that. "Oh, I have no doubt!"

* * *

 ** _tbc ... A little review, if you please, would be just lovely. x_**


	30. Miss Baxter's Request

_**A/N: Sooo … in the NaNo confusion during which this story was begun, I committed the cardinal sin of using a canon character's name in two places - and I did it TWICE! I've gone back to Ch. 6 and fixed this, so the gal at the coffee shop is now Claire and her spouse is most definitely NOT Jimmy, who is still Tommy Barrow's bff.**_

 _ **Also, some of you have asked about Daisy's age. That is confirmed in this chapter. She's modeled after my own child in many ways - wise beyond her years and smart as a whip, with unexpected moments that hit you hard and remind you that she's really still quite young.**_

 _ **Thanks to brenna-louise for the beta, and for generally being an all-around awesome fangirl bud. And a shout-out to mistressdickens, who has schooled me a bit on proper English lexicon and the wording of certain sayings. I'm American, so occasionally these characters may say things with more of an American spin. I do try to avoid that, but I'm sorry for when it happens.**_

 _ **xx**_

 _ **CSotA**_

* * *

 _ **Monday, March 2, 2015**_

 _ **7:06 a.m.**_

Charles bustled into Elsie's bedroom laden with one magazine, an extra blanket, fresh sheets, a bottle of water, a granola bar, one extension cord, and one clean pair of pajamas.

"Charles, you're not leaving for the entire _week,"_ she said, laughing at him as he plopped everything in the chair. Thankfully, he'd had the presence of mind to be clutching the water bottle in his hand, and he set it down on her nightstand.

"I know, but better to have Beryl prepared than have her go searching for things. And the sheets need to be changed, which I can take care of when she's helping you to shower. I've brought an extension cord as well, so that you can plug in your phone and iPad as needed without having to move."

Elsie just shook her head. "Completely daft," she muttered, but there was still a smile playing on her lips.

"Completely _prepared,"_ he corrected her, placing a kiss to her forehead. "Alright, then - here's the magazine you requested," he muttered, digging through the pile before locating it and dropping it next to her. "One granola bar - chewy, no chocolate," he added, laying it on the nightstand beside the water, "and I'll put the pajamas in the bathroom for when you're out of the shower."

"Hello!" came Beryl's voice from the front hallway. "I'm here - everybody decent?"

Daisy's giggle sounded from the kitchen, and Charles and Elsie peered through the doorway as the young girl met Beryl halfway, landing in the woman's arms and giving her a hug.

"How are you, my dear?" Beryl asked, and Daisy looked up at her and nodded.

"Fine," she whispered, and Beryl beamed. Daisy had spoken to her a sum total of twice now, and everyone was wishing that would continue. Save for Charlie, Beryl was the one spending the most time at the house thus far, leaving Bill in charge of the _Devil_ when she was away. Daisy's communicating with her was going to be a big help to them all, Elsie knew.

"Excellent. And you're ready to go back? Have you gotten all of your work done?" she teased, knowing full well Daisy _had_.

"I have," she said with a smile, and Beryl leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"Good girl," she praised, glancing at the clock. "Alright, you've not got much time before you and your Papa have to leave - head on back to the kitchen and finish your breakfast and I'll catch up with Elsie, hm?"

Daisy nodded and followed the instruction, and Beryl turned to find Elsie and Charles watching them through the doorway to the bedroom.

"What?" she asked, making her way down the hall. "Spies, the both of you, eh?"

"You're wonderful," Charles murmured, "simply wonderful with her. She loves you."

"Aw, she's a darling. I'm glad she's ready to return, too. It'll do her good to get back to the usual routine. And how's Miss Patience doing today?"

"Oh, hush, you," Elsie said. "I'm perfectly fine. Perfectly _bored,_ though, and feeling perfectly _disgusting_. I can't wait to get in that shower."

"If you can do that now," Charles suggested, looking at his watch, "I'll swap the bed sheets before I leave."

"Deal!" Beryl laughed. "That's just about _my_ least favorite household chore of all."

"Alright, Els," Charles said gently, "up you go."

He got her up and out of the bed, by now a rather easy feat. They clearly had a system, and Beryl marveled at how they seemed to each anticipate the other's need and fulfill it without speaking. She watched them in wonder, then shook her head and smiled when they caught her staring.

"Took Bill and I ages to get to that point," she muttered, and Elsie smiled.

"She's all yours," Charles said to Beryl, kissing Elsie's cheek.

"I love you, you know," he then murmured in Elsie's ear, and she smiled brilliantly and reached up to grasp the front of his shirt, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

"Love you, too," she whispered, and Beryl rolled her eyes.

"Enough of that, you lovesick lovebirds," she teased.

Charles handed Elsie over to Beryl and waited for Elsie to put her arm around Beryl's shoulder before he let go and sent them to the bathroom.

"I'm all set once I get in now," Elsie explained to her friend. "We moved the chair over by the shower door. I'll just need your help with my hair, but I can manage the rest."

"Alright - we'll see about that," Beryl said. "Put on my swimsuit just in case."

"You did not!" Elsie laughed, and Beryl pulled the shoulder strap out from under her shirt.

"Did so!" she chuckled.

Charles smiled as he overheard their conversation. He stripped the sheets off of Elsie's bed and tossed them in a corner. He reached for the clean ones and got the bed made up quickly, tucking the corners tightly and double-checking everything before draping the quilt over the top.

"I'm all finished out here," he called into the en-suite. "Bringing Daisy to school, and Miss Baxter asked me to pop in and see her. Then I'm heading to the beach house to pack a few more of our things. Should be back before lunch."

"See you then," Elsie said; he heard the pain in her voice and surmised that she was already seated in the shower chair ... and hideously uncomfortable.

"Take care of her, Beryl," he called.

"Will do," she promised.

* * *

Charles and Daisy bundled up and headed out. Daisy tossed her backpack into the back seat and joined Charles in the front.

"I don't think so, petal," he said, and she grumbled and got in the back.

"I'm almost nine," she complained.

"Yes, and you're _small._ I'll not have you getting injured should we hit something," he said without thinking. Her small gasp called his attention to the words he'd uttered, and he turned to look at her guiltily.

"I'm sorry, love," he said.

But she just shook her head. "It's alright, Papa. I know you just want to keep me safe. But it makes me feel like a baby sometimes."

"I'll bet by summertime you'll be just the right size for front-seat travel," he attempted. "Just another inch or two taller and the seat belt will fit you just right," he added, and she nodded.

 _Best let it lie, Charlie._ Sometimes, he couldn't believe she was only eight still. She had always been so well-spoken, so much more mature than her peers in school. And since Alice had died, of course, she'd had to do a great deal _more_ growing up than he'd have wanted for her. It suddenly occurred to him that she likely had her own suspicions about what had been going on at school.

"Daisy," he asked tentatively, having traveled a couple of miles down the road, "have you any idea why Miss Baxter wants me to come in?"

"I think it's to do with Miss O'Brien," she said, confirming his suspicions. "She's been giving me more work than the other students. I talked to Miss Baxter about it, because it's not fair. She can't do that - Miss Baxter said so."

"Hm. Elsie mentioned something about that, but I thought it was being sorted."

"Maybe," Daisy allowed. "Miss Baxter said she'd take care of it, but then …" She didn't have to finish, the both of them knowing full well what had happened after that.

"Yes," he said. "Well, you've gotten all of the work done that Marigold brought to you, and you're ahead in your literature book as well. We'll see what Miss O'Brien makes of _that."_

"She'll be angry I've read ahead," Daisy grumbled. "She's a witch," she added in a whisper.

"Daisy," he warned, trying not to smirk.

 _What can you say, really?_ he thought. _From what Elsie's said, she's right._

He drove to the coffee shop that Elsie frequented and Daisy's face lit up. She'd been by with Elsie three days in a row last week, and Claire already knew what Daisy wanted - medium hot chocolate, extra whipped cream. She prepared it as soon as they walked in the door.

"And for you?" she asked Charles. "You must be Daisy's father. I'm Claire," she said, offering her hand.

"Charles Carson, and yes, I am. But nothing for me, thanks," he said, handing over the money for Daisy's drink after shaking Claire's hand.

She made change but he waved his hand, indicating for her to toss it into the tip jar.

"Thanks! Give Elsie our best," Claire said kindly. "We're all rooting for her, and I miss seeing her smile in my drive-thru."

"We shall. Thank you, Claire."

"Have a good day!"

* * *

They got to the school and Charles pulled into the parking lot. He and Daisy made their way in, and he was touched that she tugged on his hand to kiss him goodbye when the bell rang.

"Have a fun first day back," he smiled at her, and she nodded.

"I will," she whispered. Just then, Marigold emerged from Edith's office, took Daisy's hand, and off they went to class.

"Like sisters, aren't they?"

Charles looked up to see Edith, who appeared much less green than he expected.

"Edith!" he exclaimed, coming around counter to hug her. "You look well, dear."

"I think I am _finally_ over the worst of it," she said hopefully. "So, appointment with Miss Baxter?" She frowned and checked her watch. "I think I'd like to sit in, if you wouldn't mind. Can you wait here, and I'll phone her and let her know you've arrived? I need to get through morning announcements and then I'm free until ten."

"I wouldn't mind at all," he said. Just as he took a seat by the door, his phone buzzed in his hand. He slid his thumb across the glass.

 _All tucked in. Good luck w/Phyllis - I'm sure it's about Sarah. x_

He smiled and typed a quick reply:

 _Yes, Daisy thought so, too. And thanks. Will I need it?_

Her reply came almost instantly.

 _If Edith is there, no. Behave! ;)_

He felt calmed by the short message, and realized for the first time how worked up he'd really been about the prospect of having to challenge the school on a matter related to Daisy's well-being.

 _She will be, and I'll behave. You behave, too. I expect you to be resting when I get home. Love you._

It took a few minutes for the phone to buzz again; he'd assumed she'd not be replying, so it startled him when it vibrated in his hand.

 _HOME. I love that. I love YOU, Charlie. See you soon. x_

"Uncle Charlie?" Edith said, having just finished the morning announcements.

He looked up and realized he must have a boyish, lovesick look on his face, for Edith was gazing at him adoringly and shaking her head.

"You've got it bad, _both_ of you," she said, he licked his lips and nodded.

"You have no idea," he murmured, getting out of his seat.

"Oh, I think I do," she smiled. "It's written all over your face."

He stepped aside so she could walk down the corridor ahead of him, but she fell in beside him instead.

"Please tell me you're going to propose to her. You and Elsie … I've never seen two people more suited to one another - two of my _favorite_ people, I'll have you know," she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

He stopped short, causing her to do the same two steps later. She turned, and the look on his face told her everything.

"You _have_ asked her!" she whispered excitedly. "I can tell! _When?"_

"Shh,"' he managed, looking about to be sure she'd not been overheard. Edith reached out and pulled him into the copy room, shutting the door behind her.

"Spill it, Charlie," she ordered.

He sighed. "You must tell _no one,"_ he begged. "We've not discussed it properly, but it just sort of … came about. In the hospital, mind you, just before she was discharged. But we've not even told _Daisy_ yet, and haven't made any actual decisions one way or the other."

"I swear," she promised. "Do you have a ring, at least?"

He shook his head. "Not yet - that was my plan for next weekend, actually, to start looking. Isobel is staying at the beach, as you know, but she wants to come and spend a 'girls' afternoon' with Elsie a week from Saturday - I believe I'm being evicted, and told Elsie I'd use the time at Mary's place to pack up what I don't get to this morning. But I should have time to sneak out and do both," he added.

Edith jotted something down on a Post-it note and handed it to him. "Here," she said. "He's the local jeweler the next town over. His name is Mark, and he's brilliant. If you don't find what you want, something that speaks to you, he'll manage to craft it. Trust me."

"Thank you," he breathed, pocketing the note. "Am I through being interrogated now?"

"You are," she smiled, opening the door. "But I _will_ tell Bertie."

Charles sighed. "Of course," he allowed. "But he's trustworthy, isn't he?"

"Absolutely," she said, beaming.

* * *

"Mr. Carson, hello," Phyllis said, offering her hand.

"Charles, please - none of this 'Mr. Carson' nonsense, it makes me feel too formal … and old," he said, eyebrows raised and head slightly inclined. "Besides, I think we're all friends now, aren't we?"

Phyllis smiled and gave a gentle nod. "Have a seat, please," she said, indicating the chairs by her desk.

Charles and Edith both sat.

"I'm sure Elsie - or even Daisy - mentioned this to you already but, given what you've all been through recently, I wanted to wait until this week to ask you to come in." She snuck a look at Edith, then turned her attention back to Charles. "There seems to be some kind of issue regarding the type of assignments Miss O'Brien has given to Daisy recently."

Charles sighed. "Yes, that's what I expected I was here to discuss."

"I know you have one at home, but here is a copy of Daisy's 504 plan," Phyllis said, handing him a sheet of paper. "If you look at the 'Accommodations' section, it clearly stipulates that she is to receive the same amount of work as the other students in her class, although assignments may be amended to accommodate her unwillingness to speak."

"Yes," Charles said, and he hummed as he scanned the paper. "And it is my understanding that what you've just told me is not _quite_ what has been happening in Miss O'Brien's class."

"No, it's not," Phyllis admitted, and she spotted the angry look on Edith's face.

"Look," Phyllis sighed, "we're all friends here. Elsie brought this to my attention last week. It seems Sarah O'Brien is, in fact, giving Daisy _more_ work in lieu of simply amending her assignments. It's quite out of character for her to do something like this, I will say that. And I'm not sure if it has any real bearing on the situation or not, but she really dislikes Elsie."

"Why?" Edith asked, her brow furrowed. "No one dislikes Elsie," she added under her breath.

Phyllis sighed. "I'm afraid I can't explain that," she hedged. "But I know it to be the truth. Still, I think what it boils down to is that she resents Daisy's speaking to us, Elsie, and Joseph, and not to her."

"Maybe if she were _kinder,"_ Charles rumbled angrily, "that would not even be an issue."

"Exactly," Phyllis agreed.

"So what do you want from me, Phyllis?" Charles placed the paper on her desk. "I'd rather not file a formal complaint, but this clearly cannot continue."

"I know. I'd like two things, actually, both of which I think will be effective. First of all, I'd like for you to speak with Daisy about it. Is it _possible_ that she's made enough progress that you feel she'll come out of her shell more by the end of the year? It may help if Miss O'Brien thinks there's hope on the horizon."

He sat back and placed his hands on his knees, deep in thought.

"A week ago, I'd have said yes," he explained hesitantly, "but not I'm not sure. Elsie's accident _has_ clearly had an effect on Daisy."

"Of course, and how awful it must have been."

"Yes," he replied, "but in addition to frightening her, it _also_ showed her how she can take control, that speaking can have positive results, and that being able to do things as she did can help her to overcome her fear of being out of control. I will definitely speak to her more about this."

He looked at Edith, then back at Phyllis, and realized he was still missing something. "You said two things …"

"I'd like you to set up a meeting with Sarah O'Brien," she said quietly.

"To complain to her?" he asked, incredulous.

"No, but to _talk_ to her. Some people would have already done so, believe me. But whereas you've obviously been busy with other things, and where the 504 process is fairly new to you, I wasn't sure it would have occurred to you to do so. That's the real reason that I called you in, I suppose - to go through the details with you. I felt you needed to know what rights you had and I felt that we had a responsibility to inform you that this not only unfair but, according to law, illegal."

"You had me come in so you could coach me?" he suggested, and Phyllis nodded.

"Yes, which is why I wanted Edith here, too. I need it to be clear to all involved that I'm not interested in a witch hunt, nor in getting any of our staff members in trouble. Charles, you have the added difficulty - and blessing, in my humble opinion - of being involved in a relationship with a staff member, a staff member who happens to not get along well with the teacher in question. Anything you do, any meetings that you set up, _must_ be by the book, and you need witnesses to ensure that you aren't accused of anything improper, of taking advantage of your relationship with Elsie in order to gain preferential treatment for your daughter. But you _also_ need to be made aware that it is your legal right to complain about this."

"But Edith is family," he protested. "Surely _her_ presence here today isn't terribly unbiased."

"Perhaps not," Phyllis said. "I've asked Joseph Molesley his opinion, though, and he agreed that you should be brought in. And he _is_ rather unbiased, I will say that."

Charles was silent, mulling through all that Phyllis had said. He noted that Edith was refraining from speaking at the moment, probably so as not to sway him one way or the other. He didn't figure it mattered much, though; the more he thought about Daisy being treated unfairly because of a personal gripe her teacher had with Elsie, the more incensed he became.

"Here's what I suggest," Phyllis explained. "I'd like you to contact Miss O'Brien to discuss Daisy's return to school, using Elsie's accident and its ramifications as the reason. You can fill out a meeting request form in the office, or email her when you get home. You want to request a _team_ meeting, which would be with her, Mr. Molesley, myself, you, and - if you want her there - Daisy. Trust me on this: Daisy's assignments - both the amount of work she has and the types of things she's being given recently - _will_ come up naturally in conversation. Coming in for a meeting will let Miss O'Brien know that you're not only interested, but knowledgeable, and that you've got your finger on the pulse of what's happening in the classroom. I think that's all it will take to get her back on track. Once she knows you're paying attention and that you know _exactly_ what's going on with Daisy's work, I think things will change."

Charles looked at Edith. "What do you think?"

Edith nodded. "It's a good plan. I'd have encouraged you to set something up with them even if there were _no_ issues with the 504, due to the personal nature of Daisy's relationship with Elsie and the fragility of Daisy's own demeanor. This only makes it more important for you to do so."

"Very well," Charles said. "Let's set it up."

Charles filled out a meeting request form right in the front office, then headed home to relieve Beryl of 'Elsie duty.' He arrived to find them both dozing - Elsie in the bed, of course, and Beryl in his chair. He tapped her lightly on the shoulder and startled her into wakefulness, but placed a finger to his lips to indicate that Elsie was still asleep.

"How'd it go?" Beryl asked when they reached the safety of the living room.

"Well, I think," he said.

"That Miss O'Brien's a right bitch, if you ask me," Beryl said bluntly. "Never had a kind word for my William, and he's a good lad."

"Yes, well, I think we'll have it sorted soon enough."

"Getting Elsie's back brace this afternoon - you going to be alright with all that?" Beryl asked. "It seems to be one more thing on top of everything else you've had going on."

Charles nodded. "I am. She should have gotten it days ago, but the swelling took forever to go down. Anyhow, Elsie and Anna set up a schedule for the animals' care the other day, so everything is pretty well in hand. They even added _me_ to it, but I don't start until Wednesday. And I think Elsie plans to ask Tommy to help as well. Says he knows something about the farm from the time he's already spent here."

"Tommy Barrow," Beryl mused, shaking her head. "What a sorry situation _that_ boy has."

"Well, I hear the father's not returning," Charles mused, "so maybe not as bad as it once was?"

"Well, the mother's not quite got it all together, although she tries, bless her." Beryl sighed. "It's a good thing Elsie's done, having him here to do odd jobs. Gets him out of the house and gives him some responsibility. Builds character."

"I agree. We spent an afternoon with him a while back, you know. I found him very polite. I understand from Daisy he's not got a lot of friends and used to be rather mean with the other children, but he was quite fun the day I met him."

"He does seem to have changed, from what Ivy tells me," Beryl offered, saying no more about it.

"Well, thanks so much for being here today," Charles said.

"Don't mention it," she waved him off. "I'm off to take over lunch service from my husband," she added. "You need anything, just call."

"I shall," Charles replied. "Thanks again."

"Anytime," Beryl said, putting on her coat.

Just then, a shuffling sound followed by a shouted curse emanated from Elsie's bedroom. Beryl laughed. "Have fun!" she added, waggling her fingers in goodbye.

"Oh, I shall endeavor to try," Charles said, a smile plastered on his face as he walked down the hallway. He made it four steps, and the bell's ring sounded clearly.

Charles appeared in Elsie's doorway. "Hello, love. What's happened?"

"I've dropped my magazine," she said, clearly frustrated. "I put it aside earlier because my 'designated hour of reading' was up," she grumbled, making air quotes with her fingertips, "but I've rested and feel better now. I think it's underneath the bed … And, hello," she added as an afterthought. "Sorry, I'm quite groggy at the moment."

"I've got it," he said from somewhere beneath the bed frame. He emerged once again and handed it to her as he knelt beside the bed. "I swear you drop things on purpose so that you can watch me bend over to pick them up," he added cheekily.

"Ha! You wish," Elsie grumbled. "I can barely stand the thought of getting out of this bed, let alone anything else. God, I can't wait to be off the Vicodin."

 _And the steroids,_ Charles thought, words that he was thankfully smart enough to keep inside as he stood. He knew they were what was _really_ responsible for Elsie's grumpiness, way more than the pain pills were. But she was attempting to wean off of the narcotics, too, and the extra pain that involved meant she had lost a bit of progress in the mobility department these last couple of days; to make matters worse, he knew she wasn't sleeping well. She was tough, to be sure, but it was all getting the better of her, and the wearing of the back brace surely wasn't going to help her mood at all. Coming off of two medications at roughly the same time was bound to be … _an adventure._

"I'm sure you can't," he said soothingly. "Just promise me you won't rush it."

"I already _have_ promised that – twice," she answered in a clipped tone. "But I _don't_ like how they make me feel."

"All normal side effects," he reassured her. "But, still, if the pain is better than the side effects, well … that's your call."

"Thank you for that," she replied somewhat acidly.

Charles sighed deeply, silently counting to three to maintain his own sense of calm. "Can I bring you some lunch soon? Any requests?"

Elsie shook her head. "I know I've _got_ to eat, but I don't _feel_ like having anything at all. Maybe a one of those smoothies you made me the other day? The idea of anything heavier is positively revolting to me at the moment, but perhaps something I can sip slowly will work better?"

"Sounds like a plan. Just let me know when."

Elsie held out her hand. "Charlie?" she beckoned, and he moved over to the bed to clasp her fingers in his.

"Sit," she ordered, and then softened it. "Please?"

He obeyed, sitting down in his chair beside the bed. "Els? What is it?"

She squeezed his fingers and looked into his eyes. "I know it's been an awful few days, and I'm sorry for that. I just … my emotions are all over the place, I'm not feeling well at all, and I'm frustrated as hell just lying in this bed."

"Wait 'til you have that brace, love, and then you can move around some more – at least spend time in the living room or on the porch, a change of scenery if nothing else. One day at a time."

She nodded. "I know. Thank you for being so patient with me." She licked her lips and looked down at the bedspread, composing her thoughts. "Charlie …"

"Yes?"

Her eyes back on his, she asked the question that had been on her mind all morning. "Tonight, will you … Can you sleep with me? In the bed, I mean, not trying to catch a few winks in the chair?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Elsie," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, to move or jostle you in some way."

"I don't think you will," she said, shaking her head. "But … well, I think I'll sleep so much better if you're here and not in my guest room. I'm just so _exhausted,_ I've not slept well at all and I think that's one reason why I'm so short of temper. Would you try? I'll let you know if it's not working." She gave him a sad smile, a pleading look in her eyes that just didn't belong there normally … and he crumbled before her.

"Alright, I'll give it a go. But only if you _promise_ to cast me off if you aren't comfortable?"

"I do," she replied, nodding to emphasize her agreement. She tilted her head forward and he leaned in to meet her lips with his, sealing the deal.

* * *

The next morning, Elsie woke from the most restful sleep she'd had in days. As she opened her eyes slowly, she became aware of a soft snore coming from just above her right temple, Charles's breath fluttering her bangs as he slept. She tried to stretch a bit, her movements tentative as she tested the limits of her mobility. She had taken a pain pill prior to going to sleep, but that was … she lifted her eyes to the clock on the wall.

… _Nine hours ago?!_

Gleeful, Elsie smiled broadly and took a deep, cleansing breath. She tilted her head to the side and ever-so-slowly moved over a bit until she was able to place a warm kiss to Charles's bare chest.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she murmured when she heard the change in his breathing pattern.

"Hmm, what time is it? Surely it shouldn't be quite so bright in here?"

"It's six forty-five, actually. Anna will have come and gone by now."

" _Six forty-five?_ Are you serious? We've slept _nine hours?_ How is that even possible?"

Elsie reached her hand down and clasped his. "We were _together_. I tried to tell you," she said gently. "You slept well, then?"

"Like a baby, yes," he admitted. "And I didn't hurt you?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, not at all. I don't even think I _moved,_ which is remarkable. Even my leg feels good, which I think may be due to the human hot water bottle that was cuddling it all night."

"Well, then, who'd have known there would be _therapeutic_ benefits to this scenario?"

"I did," she answered simply. "Now come over here and give me an _extra_ snuggle before you have to get up."

"Has Daisy been in?" he murmured into her hair.

"No - at least, I've just woken myself, but I don't think so. I do hear the television, so I know she's up. I told her the other day to help herself to whatever she can find in the kitchen. My best guess is she's currently stuffed full of Lucky Charms and needs to brush her hair for school."

"Quite likely," Charles chuckled. He moved a bit so that he lay more completely on his side, facing Elsie, with his head resting on his hand, his other arm draped over her abdomen. "This alright?"

She hummed her contentment. "It's _almost_ perfect."

"Almost?" he asked, eyebrow raised as he trailed his free hand up and down her arm.

She snatched his fingers in her own and tugged, almost pulling him over on top of her.

"That's better," she said, now that he was, indeed, closer.

"You're a teasing little witch, aren't you?" he growled, nipping at her collarbone as she leaned her head back and encouraged him with a soft moan. "We can't do anything more than this for weeks, and you _promised_ to behave."

She backed up a bit to look him squarely in the eyes. "I _am_ behaving, Charlie. You just wait until I can twist the lower half of my body."

"I can _barely_ wait," he whispered into her ear. "But with Daisy sitting out there somewhere, it's a good thing you can't."

"Tell me," she replied. "Alright, out you go. I'll need a moment to get myself mobile, but I think I can manage to at least get up on my own and get myself stuffed into that damned brace."

"Turtle shell," he corrected.

"Shut up, you!" she laughed, punching him on the arm. "You can _stay_ out of my bed if you're going to be like that!"

"Ahem, _you_ insisted that I be in here," he retorted, sitting on the edge only to swiftly turn back around and place a kiss to the swell of her breast. He exhaled deeply, ensuring that she'd feel the heat from his breath on her skin, after which he turned his back to her once again and got up before she could take another swing at him.

"I'll get you for that," she growled playfully.

"Given your current lack of mobility, I believe that I can outrun you, Ms. Hughes."

She sobered almost instantly. " _'Ms. Hughes'_ ," she said quietly. "It'll be nice when you can't call me _that_ anymore, I think."

He looked at her lovingly from where he stood by the door. "Indeed. And we'll talk about that when you're feeling yourself, but not before, as we agreed."

"When do we tell her?" Elsie asked, pointing toward the door, beyond which lay the living room, the television, and Daisy.

"I'm following your lead, love," he answered softly. "You let me know."

She smiled, and he smiled right back. "Okay."

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, March 3, 2015**_

 _ **1:15 p.m.**_

Charles jumped when his phone rang. He'd just been nodding off on the sofa, his book opened face-down on his stomach.

 _Mary._

"Hello?" he said groggily.

"Oh, Uncle Charlie, have I woken you? I'm sorry - you must be exhausted," came Mary's reply.

He sat up, laid the book aside on the table, and rubbed his face briskly. "No, it's fine. I need to head out in a little while to get Daisy anyhow."

Then it dawned on him that it was Tuesday. "Have you found something?" he whispered, not wishing for Elsie to overhear.

"Sort of. It might be easier if we meet up, though, so that I can show you. Could you come by my place at some point today? Richard is due to return in the morning."

"I think so," he said quietly. "Elsie's not got any appointments, and I'll need to go back out to the store for a couple of things after I bring Daisy home." He glanced at the clock. "How about in … three hours or so?"

"Perfect." She sighed, then added hesitantly, "Uncle Charlie?"

"What is it?"

"Regarding what you asked me to find, well, _that's_ not so bad after all - I think better than you thought. But …"

"Mary? _Tell me,"_ he insisted, now full of worry.

As she sat at her desk in the office, Mary scanned the papers and photographs she'd spread out before her, brushing her fingers over one in particular.

"There's more to this whole mess than even _I_ suspected," she whispered. "And I'm frightened."

Charles felt his blood run cold. "I'll see you in three hours, Mary. We'll figure it out, alright?"

"Alright. Until then," she said, and she hung up.

Charles pocketed his phone and sighed deeply.

"Charlie?" Elsie's voice came from the hallway. "What is it?"

She'd startled him. He looked up and saw her leaning against the wall, her face pale with worry and, most likely, pain.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked worriedly, jumping up to help her, then stopping in his tracks as she put up a hand to stop him.

"I'm fine, Charlie," she said. "I _had_ to get out of that bed. Just let me get into the recliner and, well, recline … and then we're going to talk about that phone call."

"Elsie, I'm not sure -"

"Don't. Mary _never_ calls you, and you sounded terrified. What in hell is going _on,_ Charles? Has _he_ done something?"

Charles helped her get comfortable and then resumed his seat on the sofa. One look in her eyes told him it was useless trying to dodge this conversation.

He filled her in on his request of Mary, how he'd told her about Richard making an offhand comment regarding Becky, and how Mary had volunteered to look into it; he told her about the secret files that Mary mentioned, and also about Richard's trip away.

"I want to see her," Elsie said suddenly.

"Mary?" he asked incredulously, and she laughed.

"No, you daft man … _Becky._ I know they've told her I've been ill, and I specifically instructed them not to tell her I'd had an accident or been in hospital. But I think she should know now, as I'm a bit better and able to be up and about somewhat."

"There is no way you can travel there, Els."

"No, I realize that. But … well, if I sent you with Beryl … would you be willing to bring Becky _here?"_

"Can I? I mean, can she leave?"

Elsie nodded.

"Of course I'd be willing. And … Daisy?"

"Yes. I think it's time, Charlie." She reached her hand out and he scooted to the edge of the sofa closest to her so that he could take it.

"Time for …?"

She smiled at him, all the love in the world reflected in her eyes. "Time to tell them, Charlie. Tell them we're going to be a proper family."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, steadying his emotions as she squeezed his hand firmly.

"Thank God," he whispered, and she tilted her head.

"Did you doubt me, Charlie?" she asked, a quiver in her voice.

But he just opened his eyes and looked at her sweetly. "No, love, not really. But now it's _real,_ you know? _Really_ real _._ And I," he added, kissing her fingers, "have never been happier."

And, with that, her heart absolutely _sang_ its reply.

* * *

 _ **If you're so inclined, please drop me a little review! Thanks so much to ALL of you who continue to do so, and to the guest reviewers. If you review as a guest, PLEASE consider opening an account so that I am able to reply to your reviews. You can also find me on tumblr, and drop any questions you have into my Ask. :)  
**_


	31. Mary's News

**A/N: HUGE thank you to all the reviewers. To the Guest who said this is your favorite fic - thanks so much for that! That's pretty much the best praise any of us can ever get. If I could have replied to you in a PM, I would have. :)**

 **Thanks to brenna-louise for reading through this for me and to mistressdickens, once more, who gave me a little "suggestion" a while back that I kinda sorta managed to incorporate here - more safely, perhaps, than the way she suggested. ;) And even though she doesn't read this fic, a shout-out for my daughter, who came up with the reason for Mary's decision to marry Richard Carlisle.  
**

 **Much love to you all. I often feel that all these characters are like balls I'm juggling - ones that are about to come crashing down around my head at any time. Time to start tying up a few of story lines, starting here. This chapter is a long one, and a lot happens. Enjoy!**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, March 3, 2015**_

 _ **4:05 p.m.**_

Charles pulled up in front of the newspaper office, noting with a sigh of relief that Richard's car was, indeed, absent from the lot. Not that he suspected otherwise, but the thought of Mary being caught in the middle of her little project was more than Charles could take at the moment.

He got out of the car and locked the doors and, just as he turned to walk into the office, he heard a shout.

"Mr. Carson!"

Charles whipped around to see Tommy Barrow approaching him, a broad smile on the young man's face.

"Tommy! Good to see you," he managed, extending his hand for a handshake.

"You, too. How's Ms. Hughes?" he asked. "I've not managed to see Daisy since she came back to school, but my Mum said she'd run into Anna Smith in the store the other day. Is it true they could use me to help out at the farm?"

"Yes, they mentioned that to me the other day, in fact. It would be wonderful if you could, Tommy. I'd never imagined how much really gets done at that place on a regular basis, I can tell you," Charles chuckled.

"Well, I'm definitely interested."

"Here," Charles said, heading back to the car. He opened the door and located a notepad and a pen, and jotted down his cell number. "This is my number. Discuss it with your mother and, if she's alright with you coming by a few times a week, call me and let me know what would work for you. Either I or Anna could pick you up - it's been much too cold and icy for you to be walking."

"Thanks, Mr. Carson. I didn't want to call Ms. Hughes and disturb her, and I wasn't sure how to get in touch with Anna." He pocketed the number and smiled.

"Thank _you,_ Tommy. Do you need a lift somewhere?"

"No, thanks. I'm just running an errand for my Mum."

"Alright then, I'll look forward to hearing from you soon."

"Sure thing, Mr. Carson," Tommy smiled.

Charles watched the boy walk away, grateful he'd run into him. If Tommy could come three days a week as Elsie had hoped, it would free Charles and Anna up a bit. With the two adults, Tommy, and even Daisy helping out, things would be much easier, indeed.

He walked back to the newspaper office and reached for the knob, finding it locked.

 _That's odd._ He pulled out his phone and texted Mary.

 _I'm here - door's locked._

He waited a minute or two for a reply, then heard Mary's quick footsteps descending the stairs behind the door. She unlocked and opened the door, and Charles was astounded by her appearance: disheveled hair, red-rimmed eyes, and a look of absolute fright on her face.

"Come on up," she whispered frantically, pulling him in the door. He complied, and she turned and shut the door behind him, locking it twice.

"Mary? What -"

"Just come up," she interrupted him. He waited for her to proceed up the stairs but she peeked through the window of the door to the newspaper office first, reassuring herself that the evening's workers had all arrived and were all occupied.

"Do _you_ need to be in there?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"No, Dave's got it under control," she said absentmindedly as she scurried up the stairs.

 _Alright … whoever that is._ Charles followed her swiftly then closed - and locked - her apartment door.

He turned to see she was not even still in the room. "Mary?" he called out.

"Just a moment," she replied from the direction of the kitchen. He heard glasses clinking and removed his coat, hanging it on the rack by the door.

Hands in his pockets, Charles glanced around the living room. He'd only been up here once, and he hadn't paid much attention to how it was decorated at the time. The walls were stark white, with expensive artwork hanging on two of them and a massive mirror on a third. There were no photos on the shelves, and a great deal of modern sculptures scattered about. The furniture was the one thing he _did_ remember; it was contemporary, looked and felt uncomfortable, and was a shocking red in color.

He moved into the kitchen to see if she needed help. "Mary?" he said softly, reaching his hand out to touch her gently on the shoulder. She was standing at the counter with her back to him and she'd just finished pouring two double shots of Scotch, one of which she handed to Charles. They clinked glasses, and she took a rather large swig from hers.

"Come in here," she muttered. "But, before you look, I have to swear you to secrecy."

"About what?" he asked, a shiver running down his spine.

"All of it," she whispered.

He thought for a moment, unsure he even wanted to be _involved_ in 'all of it'. But he saw the frightened look in her eyes and nodded reluctantly, and she led him into her office.

Charles stepped in and gasped at the array in front of him; her desk was _covered_ with a variety of materials: envelopes, folders, papers of all shapes and sizes, computer CDs, a thumb drive, and many, many photographs.

"What the hell?" he whispered, approaching the desk and forcing his eyes to take it all in. After a few seconds, during which he spotted several faces in the photographs and names on the folders that he _knew,_ the penny dropped.

"These are all people in _Misty Cove?"_ he asked incredulously.

"Mostly, yes," Mary answered. She set her glass down and stood by his side, reaching over to remove a folder from one of the piles. "This one is the Barrow woman - that fisherman's wife." She tossed it aside, but Charles moved it closer to himself, thinking he might like to peek in that one later on if he mustered up the courage. "Here's one on the woman who runs the hair salon, Mrs. Bird." She selected a set of photos. "Here we have the postmaster cheating on his wife."

"This is insane!" Charles whispered frantically. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging a bit at the ends. "How many are there?"

"Forty-two," she replied instantly, "and that's only what's not on this." She picked up the thumb drive and dangled it from its chain. "I haven't even tried to look at this yet, but I'm sure it's password protected - most likely I'd never be able to open it."

"My God." He sifted through the files, not really wanting to even _read_ the names ... but looking for one in particular.

"Here," Mary said, handing him a large envelope. "It's this one."

He turned to her with a raised eyebrow, and she nodded. Taking the envelope from her, he glanced at the small, neatly-printed label: _E. Hughes._

"Didn't you open it?" he asked, curious.

"No," she answered softly, shaking her head. "I didn't really want to know. There isn't one for any _Becky_ Hughes, though, so I can't even _begin_ to explain what's in your hand."

"Wait ... are these people all being _blackmailed?" Oh, my God,_ he thought, _if that bastard is blackmailing Elsie, I swear ..._

Mary's answer came swiftly. "Some, I think, yes."

"Are you?" he asked bluntly. The way she closed her eyes and bowed her head was all the answer he needed. He saw her lip beginning to quiver, and he set aside Elsie's envelope for the moment to draw his niece into his arms.

"Mary, whatever could you _possibly_ have done to deserve this life?" he asked softly.

"I can't tell you," she whispered.

"You _can,_ and you _must."_

"It doesn't matter anyhow," she argued, "because it's too late."

"Too late for what? Look at this, Mary!" he practically shouted, waving his hand over her desk. "Do you want to be mixed up in _this?_ And what if he finds ou that you know?"

"Oh, he can't find out," she said, pulling away and shaking her head furiously. "He'd kill me," she whispered.

"I believe that, which is why you must _leave."_

"Ha! And go where, precisely? The only home I actually own is five miles down the road, and he has a key!"

"You could go home, Mary."

She laughed. "To Mama and Papa? Are you absolutely crazy? That's the _last_ place I could go! They were _so_ happy to see the back of me, Uncle Charlie - finally married at thirty-two, and thank God! No. I know you love us all and you mean well, but I most certainly could _not_ go home."

"Does Violet know?" he asked suddenly, changing his tactic.

Mary opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again as she considered something.

"She knows something's not right," she allowed. "So part of it, maybe, but I'm not sure _which_ part."

"And surely you could tell her the rest, if it came down to it? If your _life_ were in danger? Because this is a _great_ deal more involved that what I expected you to find when last we spoke."

He waited until she met his gaze again, then added, "Mary, I'm frightened for you. If you don't leave him, I'll turn him in."

"You can't," she whispered.

"I can, and I _will,_ if it'll help keep you safe." He turned away from her and reached once again for the envelope that, he hoped, contained information on how Richard Carlisle knew about Becky Hughes's existence.

"I need to see what's in here," he muttered, and she nodded.

Charles headed into the living room and sat on the sofa. He finished his drink and placed the empty tumbler on the table, then undid the string tie holding the envelope closed, thankful that it wasn't glued shut.

Reaching into the envelope, Charles found a thin manila folder. He extracted it, then double-checked to be sure nothing else was in the envelope before laying it aside. His hands were shaking, and he took a deep breath as he set the folder on his lap.

 _What are you doing? This isn't your file, Charlie ol' boy. It is none of your business._

He left the front of it closed and pulled out his phone. He tapped in his code, then selected Elsie's picture and placed the call.

"Charlie? What is it?" she answered, breathless, before it had even rung on his end.

"Elsie? Are you alright?"

"I'd just picked the phone up to text you and it rang - it startled me. Daisy was asking when you'd be back, and I wasn't sure myself, so I was going to ask."

"Mm, I see," he said, and she could hear the worry in his voice. "I'm not sure, though."

"Charlie?" she asked again. "Love, what's wrong?"

He heaved a deep sigh. "Mary's found something, Elsie. In Richard's files - his _secret_ files. It's … it's an envelope, with a folder inside, and it's got _your_ name on it."

" _What?!"_

"I've not looked at it yet, but I can't take it home because if he discovers that it's gone -"

"Open it, Charlie. Please."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I _sure?_ Yes, Charlie, I'm sure! What the _fuck_ is that lowlife doing with a file on me?" Before he could answer, she gasped loudly. "Oh, my God ... Charlie, are there _other_ such envelopes?" she asked in a whisper.

"There are," he acknowledged. "Elsie … I hate to even _think_ this, love, but …"

"He's _not_ blackmailing me, Charlie," Elsie said tersely. "Do you honestly think I'd stand for that?"

"I don't know," he replied honestly, "as I've not yet seen what is in this folder."

The line went silent for a moment as she digested his words, turning them over in her mind.

"Charlie," she finally said, her voice a barely-controlled waver, "what, precisely, do you think could be _in_ that file that I've not already told you about myself?"

"I don't know," he repeated. "Most likely nothing."

She huffed. "You don't trust me!" she accused.

"I do," he insisted, "but … well, I wasn't sure you'd want me to see it, that's all."

"Open the bloody file, Charlie. _Read_ it. Take _pictures_ of it - seriously, please do that, so that we have them if we need them. Then put it all back and _come home."_ And, with that, she hung up.

He looked disbelievingly at the phone in his hand - now back to the home screen, which showed a lovely picture of Daisy on the beach; he'd taken it the week they'd moved to Misty Cove, searching for a new place to call home.

 _ **Home.** That's really what it's all about, isn't it? Protecting that. _

He swiped the phone screen again and sent off a brief text.

 _I'm sorry. I DO trust you, Els. I'm just afraid._

He waited a moment, not really expecting a reply.

 _Me, too. Find out what's in there, and then hurry home to me. Please. xx_

 _I will._

He placed the phone on the sofa beside him, then reached a finger under the folder's cover and slowly lifted it open.

* * *

"Elsie?" Daisy said from the open doorway of the bedroom. "What's the matter?"

Elsie smiled at her, but it was a halfhearted one and Daisy picked up on it immediately. She came into the room and curled up in the chair by the bed.

"Did you and Papa have a fight?" she whispered, but Elsie shook her head.

"No," she soothed the girl, reaching out to pat Daisy's knee. "Just a misunderstanding of sorts, but it's fine."

Daisy nodded. "I need help with my homework," she said.

"Sure," Elsie replied, smiling. "Bring it on in and we'll see what we can do."

"Alright," Daisy nodded. "Can I get you anything in the kitchen?"

"No, thank you. I'll be getting up in a little while and I'm fine until then. Go and get your maths."

"How'd you know it was maths?" Daisy asked, eyes wide. But Elsie just winked and smiled at her, causing Daisy to giggle.

Daisy came back in with a stack of cards. "Multiplication tables," she grumbled. "I can't get the eights and nines."

"You know all the rest?" Elsie asked, incredulous, and Daisy nodded. "I'm impressed!"

"Thank you." Daisy seemed frustrated and pleased in equal measure.

"Prop me up a bit, dear," Elsie said, and Daisy complied, tucking another pillow under Elsie's brace.

"How's that - does it hurt?"

"No, that's wonderful. And now I can see what we're doing. Alright, have you got a notebook and a pencil with you?"

Daisy shook her head. "No, hold on," and she ran to get them. When she returned, Elsie beckoned her up onto the bed.

"Alright - I've not got much to help you with the eights, but I let me show you something with the nines." She proceeded to write at the top of the paper: _9 x 1 = 09._

"Zero-nine?" Daisy asked. "Why the zero?"

"You'll see," Elsie said, handing her the notebook. "Now, what comes next? Put it here," she told Daisy, pointing to the next line down.

Daisy scratched a _9 x 2 =_ on the paper, then said, "I know that's eighteen."

"Good - write it under the first answer," Elsie said, and Daisy did so. "Now, do you see?"

Daisy looked at the paper and frowned; she looked at the 09, then at the 18 written underneath it.

"Try the next one," Elsie encouraged, and Daisy complied. The answer column now read 09, then under that was the 18, and under _that_ the 27.

"That's as far I know," Daisy admitted softly.

"What's happening here?" Elsie asked, pointing to the tens' column.

"They're going up?" Daisy said, and Elsie nodded.

"Exactly. And here?" she pointed to the ones' column.

"They're going - _ohhh,"_ Daisy said, smiling broadly. She hurriedly scratched in _9 x 4 =_ and asked, "Thirty-six?"

Elsie beamed. "You've got it. And the next will be …?"

"Forty-five, then … fifty-four!" Daisy shouted gleefully, and Elsie laughed.

"Exactly," she said, placing a kiss to Daisy's head. "You've got it! Go on up to twelve."

Daisy did so, scribbling the numbers in without error, pausing only when she got to _9 x 12_ before writing down the _108._

"Brava!" Elsie praised her. "Alright. As I said, I've got _nothing_ for the eights, I'm afraid. I always struggled with those myself. But we can make some flashcards and just study them, if you'd like. I presume that's what _those_ are for?" she added, pointing to the cards Daisy had originally brought in.

Daisy nodded. "You would do that with me?" she asked. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Well," Elsie teased, "I've got _loads_ of things to be doing while I'm stuck in this house for eight weeks … I'll try to squeeze you in."

Daisy giggled. "Okay." She tucked herself in with her notes sheet and some cards, and began filling them out to study with Elsie, thinking as she did so that it was rather nice having Elsie around to help her.

"I'm glad we're here," Daisy said quietly. She scribbled out an _8 x 9_ card, the tip of her tongue poking out of her lip as she wrote.

"So am I, dear," Elsie replied, fluffing Daisy's hair with her fingers. "When you finish writing those out, I'm going to have you pop dinner in the oven, alright? Your Papa got it all in the pan already, you just need to slide it in and turn the oven on."

"Sounds good."

* * *

In Mary's living room, Charles stared at the first item in the collection marked _E. Hughes._ It was, of all things, a police report.

"Oh, my God," he whispered.

It told of an incident that happened three years ago, at the home where Becky resided, and it had been filed by the facilities manager. From what he could gather, Becky had allegedly attacked a nurse's aide who claimed to have just been in the room to administer Becky's medication. According to the report, the aide suffered a black eye, a broken jaw, and several scratches to his face and chest; he claimed all of the injuries were caused by Becky. Charles just shook his head in disbelief, but disbelief of _what_ he wasn't sure. He knew Becky was strong, Elsie had said as much, but the woman he met didn't sync with the depiction he was reading in the file. _Still,_ he reminded himself, _adrenaline will do a lot, and Elsie_ _ **did**_ _say Becky could be dangerous when she was having one of her angry spells._

He took a photo of each page of the report, knowing he could finish reading it thoroughly when he got home. He then moved on to the next items: a set of photographs of the victim in question. He was uneasy looking at them; he wasn't positive, but he thought he actually _recognized_ the man from the day he and Elsie had visited Becky.

 _But surely he wouldn't have wanted to work with Becky any longer? Unless …_

But he could come up with nothing. He took pictures of all the photos, knowing Elsie would know if the man still worked at the home; the staff wasn't large; she likely knew them _all._ He did think it odd that she'd never mentioned the incident but, then again, he hadn't told her about every little thing Robert had gotten into over the years, either. That caused him to smirk a bit, and he moved on.

The last item in the file gave him pause, though. He lifted it and looked for the other pages that should have been with it, but there was only the one: it was part of her checking account statement. He double-checked the folder and the envelope but, no, there was only this one of the five pages there should have been, according to the _'2 of 5'_ notation in the upper right-hand corner.

He scanned the entries, noting that the amounts varied in number from just under twenty dollars to a couple over a thousand. He tried to make out what they were for, but the bank's coding of each entry made it difficult. The only thing he could tell from what was in front of him was that the two larger debits were identical amounts. He snapped a photo of that paper, too, and then replaced all of the items into the folder. He put the folder into the envelope and wrapped the string around the closure, winding it just as it had been when he found it. As an afterthought, he also snapped a picture of the _E. Hughes_ label on the outside of the envelope.

He got up and headed back into the office, from which Mary had not exited. He spotted her seated at the desk, and was fairly sure she was crying again. He peeked over her shoulder, and saw that she held a newspaper article in her hand.

"Mary?"

She didn't even acknowledge him, and so he pulled up a chair and sat beside her. He held out his hand, and she handed him the article.

"I found it mixed in with everything else," she wept. "I know he has other copies, but this must be the original."

Charles took the clipping from her. The photo showed an automobile practically wrapped around a small tree, with what looked to be broken glass scattered all over the road. He read the article quickly, then went back and reread it more carefully.

"I don't understand," he muttered. "This says something about a hit and run … one fatality, which was the driver, with the passenger critically injured. The driver of the other car drove off - unbelievable - and was never identified. How positively awful." He handed the clipping back to her, a look of confusion on his face.

Mary looked him in the eyes, but couldn't maintain it; she dropped hers to the article now clutched in her shaking fingers.

"Mary?"

"It was Richard," she whispered. "The survivor … in the automobile. He was the passenger."

"My God," Charles breathed. "That explains the small scars …?"

She nodded. "On his shoulders, yes."

"He's lucky to be alive! Was it a drunk driver? I can't imagine any other reason for someone to leave that type of scene."

"It was," she nodded, swallowing, and she looked up at him again. "And she left because she was terrified. And stupid."

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped a bit. "No." He started shaking his head. _"No._ It couldn't have been."

"I'm afraid so," she replied with a scoff, her tears falling anew.

"But … How did _he_ know?"

"I'd been with them," she said, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief he gave her. "We were coming back from a party. I'd met Richard a few times; he came on kind of strong but could be charming, too. Big-shot newspaper man and all. We had a decent time. He was there with Tony, the man who died - they were cousins. Tony had been an acquaintance of mine back home, from Uni; he was the one who introduced me to Richard in the first place.

"We'd all had too much to drink and none of us should have been driving, but we were stupid. We had five miles to go - _five miles,_ Uncle Charlie."

"But it was raining," he mumbled, remembering the photo in the article as another detail from it clicked in his mind: the car in the photograph was wet.

"Yes," she nodded. "I was following them, too closely, and hit a puddle - hydroplaned right into them, bumped their car off the road. I barely touched it - there wasn't a scratch on my car, even, but it was enough for Tony to lose control. The rest … well," she pointed to the article, and he nodded.

"And you … left?" He still couldn't understand that.

"I did," she said, sobbing by this point. "God help me, I drove straight home. I parked the car, locked it, went into my apartment, and passed out. I woke thirteen hours later, but the details of it all were a bit hazy."

Charles took another deep breath and said, "And, once he was released from the hospital, Richard contacted you?"

She nodded.

"And forced you into marriage, threatening to bring what he knew to the police if you refused?"

"Yes. I'd just moved here, Mama and Papa had pushed for it, to see if a change of scenery made me … I don't know, really … happier? Running into Tony was a strange coincidence; I had no idea he was in the area. We met up in Portland when I was down there shopping, and went out a few times afterwards."

"Mary," he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"I know," she whispered. "But I made my choice. I couldn't go to prison, Charlie, couldn't let Mama and _especially_ Papa know what I'd done, what I was responsible for. Granny knows Richard has some hold over me, but not what it is. I think she might even suspect, because she knew Tony's family and knows how he died, but to my knowledge she has not put it all together."

"And she bought the beach house to give you an alternative, a place to go if you needed it?"

"Yes. She didn't put his name on it, only mine. Not that it matters now that we're married."

"Don't be so sure of that," he mused. "If she owns fifty-one percent of it, then it's a moot point."

"Regardless," she said, turning to face him as she took his hands in hers, "absolutely _no one_ can know about this. Not Elsie, certainly not my parents, and most definitely not Richard. _No one_ can know I've told you."

"I can't promise that, Mary, but I will _try,"_ he said. "That's the best I can do." He handed her Elsie's envelope, and she laid it on the desk.

"I've got photos of all of the contents," he said, pointing at the envelope, "but none of it makes sense to me. All I know is that he's not blackmailing her ... so why does he even have a file on her?"

"I think that a lot of them are _potential_ blackmail things," she said.

"But how would he even have known Elsie _had_ a sister?"

She started gathering the files and putting them back in the drawer. "I have no idea, but I'll find out." She looked up at him. "Go home, Uncle Charlie. Give Daisy a hug, make Elsie dinner. Talk to her, and let me know if you need more from me."

"And what are you going to do about all of this?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I need to think about it. But I'm going through this tonight," she added, holding up a ledger. "There are notations with pretty large dollar amounts in here. It only contains initials, no full names, but I can compare them to the files and try to match them up."

"Good. That will tell you to whom he _is_ sending blackmail demands. But why? I don't understand - do you need the money that badly?"

She grimaced and blushed. "Actually, we do," she admitted. "Richard seemed to think that marrying me would provide him with an instant access to my family's fortune. He was, as I'm sure you can imagine, wrong. Once he got on Papa's bad side, which happened by the end of the wedding reception, if you remember, that was it. Papa has a trust for me, but Richard knows nothing about it."

"So he's used this money he's making off of others to support your paper?" he asked, incredulous that she'd allow that to happen.

"I guess so. I honestly had no idea where the money was coming from until tonight, though. He just said he'd made some successful investments. I never even questioned it … I feel so stupid now."

"Don't," Charles insisted. "The man is a master manipulator, Mary. Don't beat yourself up for this, you couldn't have known."

"But now I do," she said, and he nodded.

"Yes, now you do. And you have to decide what happens next. But we'll be here to support you, Mary, whatever you decide. You know that. _All_ of us - your family, me, Elsie, everyone. Remember that."

She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I shall. Now go home, Uncle Charlie," she said, glancing at the clock. "Go make dinner for your family. Give Daisy a kiss from me, alright?"

"Alright," he said, heading over to get his coat. "Call me if you need anything, no matter the time."

"I will."

"Mary?" he asked, turning toward her once again, his and on the doorknob. "I must ask. If you're no use to him financially, and he's keeping all these secrets from you … why hasn't _he_ divorced _you?"_

She half-smiled, a sneer of sorts. "Because he wants a _baby."_

His eyes widened in horror. "And do you?"

"Ha! Hell, no … Not with him, anyhow. Don't worry, though. Of all the strange bits of this mess, _that_ one is the thing I'm in complete control of."

"And he doesn't suspect?"

"Not yet."

He nodded, then turned and left.

* * *

Charles pulled in next to Elsie's truck. He sat in the car for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. His entire opinion of his niece had shifted a bit, and he wasn't sure what to do about that. Mary, the one who had always been so cool, calm, collected, the one who was always so self-assured and determined, had practically broken down in front of him. He was disappointed to hear her story, he couldn't deny it, but he was also a bit in awe of her. She'd married a man she clearly despised in order to protect herself from prison, but he knew her well enough to realize she also feared the scandal it would bring down upon the family. He knew that the typical statute of limitations for vehicular manslaughter - which he assumed this case would be deemed - was six years; Mary and Richard hadn't been married that long yet, though.

He took a few cleansing breaths and decided to push it aside for now. As he got out of the car he noted that someone (likely Daisy) had left the light on for him. The warm glow of the lights from inside made him smile and put a spring in his step as he made his way to the door.

"I'm home!" he called, and Daisy came running from Elsie's room.

"Papa! I put dinner in the oven!" She reached up and he lifted her, groaning excessively as he did so.

"You are getting too big for this, petal," he said, and she giggled. "When you're nine, we're done."

"Aww," she pouted, but she knew he was right. "Okay, but I still get to sit on your lap."

"Deal. How'd the afternoon go?"

"Fine. Elsie taught me a trick for my multiplication tables, for the nines," she said. "I already know them!"

Charles beamed and kissed Daisy's cheek. "Excellent. And is our patient in bed?"

"Mm-hm. And she said dinner should be ready in a half hour."

"Perfect," he replied, carrying her to Elsie's room. He deposited her on the floor just inside the doorway and made his way to Elsie's bed.

"There you are," she smiled, and he leaned over to kiss her sweetly, lingering for just a moment. He broke away and she asked softly, "Is everything alright?"

"I think so. I missed you two, though, and I'm glad I'm home."

Daisy sniffed and he turned to look at her. He saw a strange look on her face, and went over to her, squatting down to face her.

" _Is_ this home now, Papa? I mean, are we staying here? You know … for always?" Her brow was furrowed and he wasn't sure what answer she was looking for. He turned to look at Elsie, who gave him a smile and a slight nod.

 _Go ahead - tell her._

"Well," he said, turning back to Daisy. "We could, if you think that would be a good idea. You see … Elsie and I have been talking …"

A slight smile came to the corners of Daisy's mouth. "About what?"

"Well," he said, leaning over as though he had a secret to share. "I think I'd like to marry her," he whispered.

Daisy's eyes grew wide as saucers. "Really?" she whispered hopefully, and he smiled and nodded.

"Really," he said.

"And does _she_ want to? Really?"

He turned to see Elsie looking at them tearfully.

"She does," she answered, "but only if it's alright with you, love."

Daisy walked over to the bed and climbed in. "Could I be in the wedding?" she asked softly.

Elsie laughed. "You could!"

Charles just looked on in awe as his entire future unfolded before his eyes.

"You're sure?" Daisy asked hesitantly. "You'd be … like my new Mummy, sort of. Like Bertie is Marigold's new Papa."

Elsie gave her a watery smile. "I would," she confirmed. "Are you okay with that, Daisy?"

"Oh, yes," Daisy gushed, nodding furiously. "Yes!"

Charles joined them on the bed and kissed them both.

"We're getting married," he chuckled.

"We're getting married!" Daisy shouted gleefully, and she leaned over and gave Elsie a kiss on the cheek.

* * *

"She's all tucked in and already fast asleep," Charles said softly, coming back into the bedroom. "How did your afternoon go?"

"Well," Elsie said. "I need a shower, though."

"We can do that," he smiled. "But after."

"Yes. Sit, Charlie. Tell me what happened."

He joined her on the bed, lying on his side and facing her, draping his arm over her abdomen. He squeezed gently and placed a kiss to her temple, and she hummed.

"This is nice," she said. "I feel like you're bracing me for what's to come, though."

"I am, I suppose." He sat up and pulled his phone from his pocket, swiping open the _Photos_ section and handing it to her.

Elsie took it and flipped through it rapidly, then went back and focused on the police report. Brow furrowed, she scanned the entire thing as Charles looked on. When she got to the end, she gasped.

"Elsie? What is it? Is this true?"

"It is," she said absentmindedly. "But hold on." She flipped to the photos, clicking on one and zooming in.

"Oh, my God," she whispered. "Holy shit … no wonder …"

"What? He still works there, doesn't he? I thought he looked familiar, but …"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. She flicked back to the police report and zoomed in on the end, then handed the phone back to him.

"Read," she instructed, and he did so. Details about the report, the injuries, how Becky had to be sedated, and the name of the aide who'd been attacked ...

 _Timothy O'Brien._

"What?" he gasped, looking at Elsie. "Her brother?"

Elsie nodded. "Must be. I had no idea, though. I'm not sure I could have come up with his name on my own, not without seeing this. It was a few years ago."

"This is why she hates you? I don't understand - _you_ didn't do this to him!"

"I know. But I paid for all of his medical bills, his treatment, whatever the facility's insurance wouldn't cover. Although, knowing Sarah, that is a _very_ good reason to hate me."

"Because you did her a kindness?" he asked, incredulous.

"You don't know Sarah O'Brien," she scoffed. "But I had no idea it was her _brother_ until just now. Seeing those photos, though, it's clear. I mean, I suppose he could be a cousin or something, but I doubt it. And it's why _you_ recognized him, too. He's not employed there any longer, but you saw Sarah the day you brought Daisy in, and also at parents' night."

"And you never figured it out?"

She shook her head again. "No. This happened just over three years ago, and it was another year before Sarah came to work at my school; she'd been working the next town over for years before that. I met her at the orientation day for new hires, and I see the her at monthly staff meetings. She's never been kind to me, but I had no idea _why._ Figured it was just something odd with her."

"Does Phyllis know?" he asked suddenly. "Because she _seemed_ to know why Sarah hates you, but she wouldn't say at the meeting."

"Phyllis knows about the incident, yes. She might have put it all together, I suppose, but not without knowing his name I don't think."

"And Sarah gave this information to Carlisle. Why?"

"I've no idea," she said. "Maybe she knows him from before?"

"Maybe," he said, thinking back to what Mary had said. Carlisle was fairly new in town when Mary moved here; it's possible that he knew the O'Briens from years past. Stranger things had happened, he knew.

"What's with the bank statement?" he asked suddenly.

Elsie flicked to it and zoomed in. "See these two payments?" she asked, and he nodded. "They're two of the ones for the medical bills. They're coded to the facility, but the amounts are different than what I pay for Becky's care."

"Two of them? How many were there?" he asked.

"Four in total, but the other two were made from my personal account, and this is the account for the farm. But it's enough to prove I paid them."

"Even if he wanted to, he could never blackmail you with this, Elsie. You did what you were legally obligated to do."

But she shook her head. "No, not quite. There's a stipulation in the paperwork for the facility that states someone in Becky's condition - when proper precautions are not taken - cannot be held responsible for injury to any of the staff."

"Then why did you pay for it?"

She just looked at him. "Because it was the right thing to do? Charlie, I felt horrible about it! It could have been down to some fault of his, but I had no idea really. I knew what she could be like."

"Only now it looks like you paid for everything to keep him from suing you."

"I'm afraid so."

They sat and looked at one another for a moment, and Charles made a decision.

"Let's go," he said, standing up and taking Elsie's hand.

"What?"

"Shower. Wash it all away, so to speak. We can't do anything about this tonight, and you said you need one. I'm guessing you feel _worse_ now."

She smiled. "I do, as it happens. And I'm sure you're no better."

"Not really."

She cocked her head and looked at him, seeing something odd in his demeanor.

"Charlie? Did you find out something _else_ tonight? Something you're not telling me?"

He licked his lips and helped her out of the bed. "I did, but I can't talk about it. Not now, anyhow."

"Alright." She offered a supportive smile, and he bent down to kiss her.

"Join me in there?" she suggested, and he raised an eyebrow. "Please," she added. "I think it would be good for both of us after all this."

"Perhaps you're right."

"You're sure Daisy's asleep?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Oh, yes - I sat in with her for a bit, thinking she'd have questions about wedding plans, but she just fell off to sleep immediately."

"Good," she said with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

They went into the bathroom and Charles reached to unstrap Elsie's brace.

"I can do that, you know," she murmured, reaching for the strap herself, but he put his hands on hers to stop her.

"Let me. Please."

He undressed her completely, placing gentle kisses to her face, her shoulders, her breasts … anything he could reach easily. A few soft gasps escaped her mouth, but neither spoke.

She stepped just inside the door and reached her arms out to him, unbuckling and removing his belt and undoing the button on his trousers. He backed away and removed the rest of his clothing, then stepped in the shower and got the water set.

"Come here," he whispered. "I'll do your hair."

She smiled and complied, relishing the feeling of his hands in her hair, rubbing her scalp, massaging away the tension in her shoulders.

"Thank you. Now … _you_ come _here,"_ she beckoned, moving over to the wall.

"Els?" he asked, unsure of what she was asking. "What …"

"Shh," she said. She rubbed her hands over his chest and shoulders, down his arms and back up again, then down his chest … and lower.

"We can't," he groaned, responding instantly to her touch.

"We can't do _that,"_ she amended, "but I _can_ do _this."_ She continued rubbing her hands all over him and smiled as his breaths came shorter and more frequent.

"Wait," he said, pushing her hands away. "Turn around - and hold on to that handle."

She smiled as a flush crept over her chest. "Charlie, you don't have to -"

"Turn around," he insisted, grabbing at her waist and encouraging her to do so.

"But you've not …"

"After," he said, cutting her off.

"You know I can't really move," she reminded him, and he nodded.

"I know - just hold on to steady yourself, and you can lean back against me. Trust me, I've got you."

She did so, and felt him pressing into her lower back. "Oh, my God, Charlie …" she whispered, as his hand slid down her body and quickly found its warm destination. "Please …" She gripped the handle tightly and got lost in his embrace.

Charles reached down and kissed her neck, closing his eyes and keeping a firm grip on her waist, holding her upright as his touch made her cry out in delight. When she came back to Earth, she turned around ... and returned to her original plan, relishing in how he gasped and moaned her name as he came undone in her hands.

* * *

Later, curled in bed, Elsie turned her head to look at her man. She reached out and cupped his cheek, and he opened his tired eyes to look at her.

"You won't tell me, will you?" she whispered, having seen that something was still on his mind.

"No. Not yet," he said honestly. "But eventually, yes. Once I'm sure of how everything will go. We're having Becky over tomorrow, then I have Daisy's meeting the day after that, and then you've got your afternoon with Isobel on Saturday. Between that and the farm, I just need to get through the next week."

"Alright," she said, yawning.

He reached his hand over and caressed her hip. "I love you, you know."

She smiled at him. "I know. I love you, too … like no one has ever loved you before."

He leaned over to kiss her. "You've got that right."


	32. Doubly Blessed

**A/N: I would be remiss in not thanking VoyICJ for lovely chatting these past few days, leading me to add something in here I'd not thought of before, regarding how Charles, as a parent, would react to Daisy meeting Becky (knowing what he does now). I *love* being able to chat with reviewers so, please, set up an account if you review as a guest now. You don't need to use your real name, but it enables me to write back to you directly (which I *always* do).  
**

 **My undying thanks to my friends – calling out brenna-louise for her patience with my endless annoying questions, particularly as I fleshed out the remainder of this fic, and also chelsie fan, dibdab4, and Hogwarts Duo, who encourage me more than even they probably know. As it stands right now, there is a lot more to come in this story, but it'll end up being about a dozen more chapters ... and it's definitely not all fluff.**

 **The words to this song seemed fitting, so I added it into my "After the Fall" Spotify playlist, which you can find for free under my chelsiesouloftheabbey user name.**

 **Chelsie on, folks! Xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **This is where I belong.**_

 _ **Just the sound of your voice,**_

 _ **The light in your eyes,**_

 _ **We're so far away from yesterday**_

 _ **Together, with a wink and a smile.**_

 _ **We go together, with a wink and a smile.**_

* * *

 **Wednesday, March 4, 2015**

 **5:55 a.m.**

Charles groaned as he rolled over and pulled the quilt over his head.

"You have to get up," Elsie mumbled, reaching over blindly and accidentally hitting him on the ear.

"Hey," he grumbled, and she giggled in her drowsy state.

"Sorry. What time is it?"

"Too bloody early o'clock," he said, snuggling further down under the covers and placing his head on her chest … lightly, though, lest he apply too much weight and hurt her. "Some of us didn't grow up on farms, you know."

"Hmm, this is rather nice," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his head and shoulders. He leaned over slightly and placed a kiss over her heart and she smiled.

"It is," he admitted. "It's my new favorite way to wake up. Next to you, I mean," he clarified. "Not with the rooster's crow at goodness knows how early in the morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

He picked up his head to meet her gaze. "You're joking, right? You know how well I sleep after … well, _that,"_ he said with a smile.

"Just wait 'til I'm back to normal," she whispered with a hazy smile.

"Ohhh, now you're _teasing_ me," he said. "Well, two can play at that game," he added, trailing a fingertip up her thigh.

She sighed. "But I really _can't_ play, though," she pouted, "so I kindly ask you to stop those fingers, Mister."

"Ha! You started it, making me think about you 'back to normal'," he retorted, but he rolled off of her with a groan and swung his legs out of the bed. "Alright – animals, tea, breakfast, Daisy to school, Becky," he said, rubbing his hands over his face. "Edith is bringing Daisy home today?"

"Yes," Elsie replied, looking up and seeing his hair sticking out in all directions. She laughed. "And maybe you can get a haircut when you get into town," she said lovingly, reaching her arm out so that her nails raked over his boxer-clad bottom. "Now get some clothes on before your daughter finds you like _that,"_ she added, pushing him away with her fingertips.

He twisted himself around and planted a firm kiss to her lips before getting out of the bed. She laughed aloud at his quick retreat, the joyous sound of her voice chasing him as he headed down the hallway toward the bathroom to start his day.

* * *

Elsie pulled the blankets back up over her chest and sighed happily as she heard Charles in the shower. He actually _had_ popped into the local barber's shop after bringing Daisy to school, too, and she smiled again as she remembered his disheveled state earlier that morning. He'd looked so unlike the meticulously put-together Charles everyone else saw, and knowing she'd see him like that every day just melted Elsie's heart. What's more, he'd done two loads of laundry when he got home, spending the down time during the wash and dry cycles cuddled up with her, watching a movie. All in all, it was a pretty decent morning.

Beryl was scheduled to get through the lunch rush at the restaurant and then she'd head over to the farm. She had said she would bring lunch and, after everyone ate, she and Charles would go to the group home to pick up Becky for the afternoon. Daisy wouldn't be home from school for another two hours, and Elsie was looking forward to having a bit of time to herself without Charles hovering over her, watching her every move. She felt ungrateful even thinking it because she had no idea what she'd have done without him, and she _did_ enjoy mornings like the one they'd just had, but she knew enough about herself to recognize that the cabin fever had definitely set in.

 _And eight more weeks until returning to work._

Elsie was trying valiantly not to cry most of the time, but it was a hard battle, indeed. She was thankful to at least have the wedding to look forward to, which would be so much easier to plan once other people _knew_ it was actually happening.

The doorbell rang and Elsie heard Charles's booming "Come in!" She had insisted upon being at the table for lunch and up for Becky's visit as well, which meant she'd confined herself to the bed for the entire day so far.

"Here we are," Beryl said, her voice carrying down the hallway. "It's a hearty beef and vegetable soup, with some bread we made fresh this morning." Elsie heard her set a heavy pot on the stove and click on the burner.

"We still have a fridge _and_ freezer full of what you brought last week!" Charles exclaimed, and Elsie chuckled and shook her head, knowing Beryl was already ignoring him.

"She's the best cook in Misty Cove, Charlie!" Elsie called out from her bed. "Don't you shoo her away or make her want to give it up!"

Beryl's laugh was music to Elsie's extremely bored ears, and Elsie smiled as she heard her friend's shoes clicking down the hallway.

"There you are," Beryl said, bending down for a kiss on the cheek. "I thought you weren't hiding away in this bed now that you have that thing," she added, pointing to the brace.

"Yes, well, _Nurse Ratched_ in there seemed to think I needed to stay in bed if I was to be sitting up for _all_ of luncheon," Elsie grumbled, pointing toward the kitchen.

"He's right, though, isn't he?" Beryl asked, and Elsie sighed and nodded reluctantly. "You poor thing … You must be going mad."

"I am," Elsie freely admitted, "and it's been trying for both of us. I'm spending about sixteen of every twenty-four hours in this bed still, until the pain lessens and the physical therapy really gets going. God bless him, Beryl, honestly – he's put up with so much and just keeps coming back for more. And I've been horrible half the time, I freely admit."

"Well, pet, he loves you now, doesn't he?" her friend soothed, reaching over to squeeze Elsie's hand. Suddenly, Beryl smirked.

"What?"

"Well," she said slowly, "I was just wondering if maybe you're a little extra testy because you two haven't been able to … well, you know," she said, giving a slight nod to the bed.

Elsie flushed brilliantly, a dead giveaway to her best friend.

"Wait," Beryl whispered, stunned. "You haven't, have you? I mean, you _can't …_ can you?"

"We can't do _that,"_ Elsie hedged, "but, evidently, there are other things we _can_ do which don't require lying down or sitting -"

But Beryl interrupted her with a raised hand, stopping her cold. "I don't need to know the details, Elsie … but thank goodness," she said, and they dissolved into giggles.

"You're telling me!" Elsie laughed. "Honestly, at our age you'd think we wouldn't mind, but …" She shook her head guiltily, still scarlet.

"You don't have to explain a thing to me, Missy," Beryl assured her. "Now, how about we get you up so we can eat, and then Charles and I can fetch that lovely sister of yours, shall we?"

"Yes! Oh, Beryl, I can't wait for Becky to see the farm!"

"She must be so excited! What finally made the doctor approve it?"

"I'm not sure," Elsie admitted. "Perhaps just the fact that I can't get there to see her? Maybe she begged? I've no idea, but I'm not complaining. It'll be an exhausting couple of hours for her, being in a new place _and_ meeting a new person, but I think she'll do alright."

"And no recent spells?" Beryl asked.

The question made Elsie think of everything that Mary had found, but she just shook her head, keeping all of that to herself for the time being.

"No, no recent spells."

Elsie managed to get herself up and into the brace again with no help from Beryl, whom she sent to the kitchen to help Charles get everything plated up and ready. She made her way into the dining room and found the table set with fresh bread and steaming bowls.

"That looks and smells heavenly," Elsie gushed. Charles helped her get comfortable in the chair before taking his own seat.

The friends spent about half an hour eating and chatting, with Beryl asking details about how the farm was going, whether or not Anna was going to be able to take over all of Elsie's appointments, if Tommy had called yet, and when Daisy's team meeting was.

"One week from today, and thank goodness," Elsie said to the last bit.

When they were finished, Charles rose to clear the dishes, but Beryl beat him to it and ordered him to sit again.

"Don't you argue with me, Charles Carson," she insisted upon seeing the look on his face. "You've been working like a dog around here and I can handle three bowls and three spoons. Get any last-minute instructions from your girl here and then we can head out as soon as I've finished." She took the bowls and silverware into the kitchen, leaving Charles to reach over and take Elsie's hand.

"My girl," he said, smirking and raising an eyebrow.

"Well," she demurred, turning his hand in hers and tracing her thumb over the life line on his palm, "I _am._ I feel ridiculously guilty not telling her, Charles."

"Once we make it official," he rumbled, and Elsie looked at him curiously. "The ring," he explained, and she nodded.

"Ah, I see. But that's not _necessary,_ surely you know that? It's _you_ that I need, nothing else."

"I'll hear none of that," he insisted. "If we're going to do this, we're going to do it properly."

"What are you all on about?" Beryl asked as she came back into the dining room area to grab the butter dish. "All I hear is whispering … What are you up to?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Charles teased, and Elsie swatted at him.

"Go and make it sound awful, why don't you?" Elsie chided, but Charles just winked at them both, causing Beryl to roll her eyes.

"Enough of you two lovebirds – my teeth are going to fall out if I stay here with both of you much longer. Let's go," Beryl said to Charles, beckoning him with her hand. "Becky won't wait forever, and I'm sure she's beside herself with excitement."

"Take care of my sister, you two," Elsie said softly.

Charles leaned over and kissed her soundly on the lips, lingering as she reached her hand up to brush her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He growled slightly and she pulled away.

"See what showering does to me, Mr. Carson?" she murmured playfully, and he reached forward and nipped her lip gently before soothing it with his tongue and backing away, grateful that Beryl had already headed into the kitchen to gather her things.

"Oh, don't I know it? Perhaps we can manage that again sometime?" he asked hopefully.

Elsie glanced at the clock. "It's a date, in about ten hours, how's that?"

"Perfect," he smiled.

* * *

The ride to Becky's place was quiet; Charles had a great deal on his mind, and Beryl didn't want to intrude. Truth be told, with Beryl's busy life, fifteen minutes of silence was golden to her and she didn't really want to interrupt it with meaningless noise.

As he pulled the car in, Beryl took something from her bag.

"What's that?" Charles asked, peeking over. He spied a silver picture frame, in which was a picture of Beryl's children.

"Ivy and William got their school pictures done last Christmas," Beryl explained, "and I needed to get Becky an updated one."

"She's met your children?" he asked, truly interested.

Beryl nodded. "Oh, yes, of course – several times, actually. We sometimes come by with Elsie to visit, and always come for Becky's birthday. In fact, she met them on her birthday two years ago. I was set to go and visit with Elsie and I'd made a cake for Becky. My sitter cancelled at the last minute and I had to bring Ivy and William with me. Elsie insisted it would be fine, and it was – the kids took to her like ducks to water, and vice versa. Becky did Ivy's hair that afternoon, a rather intricate French braid, and they were friends for life, I think." Beryl smiled fondly at the memory, and Charles's mind went back to one of his own, a vision of Elsie's hands flying through Daisy's hair in much the same way.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said softly.

"Charles?" Beryl asked. "Were you _worried_ about Becky? About bringing her 'round to the farm, I mean? Because of Daisy?"

He wasn't sure what to say; he knew that he couldn't reveal any details about the O'Brien attack in case Beryl didn't know it had ever happened. And he had to admit, he _was_ a bit nervous; after all, Becky's condition was nothing if not unpredictable.

His silence was all Beryl needed to hear. She reached over and patted his arm, squeezing it reassuringly as he still gripped the steering wheel.

"They'll be fine," she insisted. "Trust me. Becky will love Daisy, and Daisy will love her right back. I know Becky's challenges can seem frightening, but her medication has been spot-on for months now and she's been doing remarkably well. What's more, she's never been to the farm and she's dying to see the horses. She loves Elsie, she was rather taken with you, and I'll hang around for a bit as well. Don't worry … nothing awful will happen."

He looked up. "How did you know what I was thinking?" he whispered.

"You'd be foolish not to have worried at all, Charles, because you're a good father. But it'll be _fine."_

Charles smiled. "Thank you for that. I do feel better now. I like Becky, I really do. But Elsie not wanting her to meet Daisy straightaway made me nervous."

"Well," Beryl smiled, "Elsie must think you're sticking around for a while, then, hm? She wouldn't have wanted Becky to meet Daisy and grow fond of her, only to have you and Daisy disappear. In some ways, that would be like Joe all over again."

"I hadn't thought of it like that," Charles admitted. "Of how _Becky_ must have been looking forward to that baby, too … of how awful it must have been for her when Elsie lost the baby, or when it all went to hell with Joe. And then he died ..."

"It was a disaster, from what I understand. Becky is very concrete – she likes things all planned out to a T, and she really struggles with change. But _you_ were a huge change, and when I visited her the week after you did all she could do was talk about how much she enjoyed meeting you. She just wants Elsie to be happy, because she knows it will make _her_ happy. Does that make sense? I think she worries about her big sister, to tell the truth."

Charles thought about his relationship with Daisy, how she fed off of his feelings and reciprocated them at times without even being aware of it. "It does make sense," he nodded, removing his hands from the steering wheel at last. "Let's go, shall we?"

"Beryl!" Becky shouted, running over to Beryl's open arms. "And Charlie!"

"I told you I'd see you again sometime, didn't I?" Charles asked as he hugged Becky.

"You did! And we are going to Elsie's house. She hasn't been feeling well," Becky added sadly. "Charlie, how is she?"

"She had a fall, Becky, but she is perfectly alright. She's in some pain, but can sit and visit with you for the afternoon. Rides in the car are uncomfortable for her though, and she won't be able to drive for quite some time, but she's at home and can't wait to see you." He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"And I'm meeting your daughter today," Becky said pointedly. "That's important. Why didn't I meet her before?"

Charles took a deep breath, wishing Elsie had coached him on how to answer that. "Well," he said, "Daisy's had some difficulties since we moved from England. But she's mostly better now, and she is looking forward to meeting you very much."

Becky seemed to accept that answer, and she reached out for Charles's hand. He took hers lightly and she squeezed it and smiled at him, melting his heart as they left her room and walked down the corridor toward the front door. Beryl approached the front desk and signed Becky out.

"Have a wonderful time, Becky," Mags said, giving the woman a hug. "Tell Elsie I send my best."

"I will, Mags," Becky said, giving the woman a hug. Then she took Charles's hand again and they headed to the car.

As Charles drove down the driveway, he noticed Max come running out the door. He stopped at the end of the front walk and sat, his tail wagging furiously. Charles hadn't even _thought_ about the dog …

"Do you like dogs?"

"Oh, yes," Becky answered, nodding. "Max is sweet."

"Have you met him?"

"Once," she said, "when Ellie first got him, she brought him by the home."

She looked around, taking everything in, looking in wonder at the barn, the pond, and the expansive yard. Once she opened the car door, the smell of the horse paddock and the barn assaulted her senses.

"Smells like back home," she giggled, "but it's not as cold as Scotland."

"Come on in, then," Beryl said. "There's a cake I've left on the counter."

"Chocolate?" Becky asked, eyes lit up.

Beryl looked up to see not one but _two_ pairs of eyes staring at her with hope, and she laughed.

"Yes, _kids,"_ she teased. "Chocolate."

Becky winked at Charles, who smiled and nodded.

"Let's go!" he said.

Becky reached down to scratch Max behind the ears, and giggled as he nosed her palm with his cold snout. He kissed her hand and evidently deemed her worthy to enter, for he bounded off across the yard in search of a ball.

"I see how we rate," Charles said to Beryl. "Not even a sniff, no kiss - _nothing."_

"I know," she sighed, smiling and tilting her head in Becky's direction. "It's all about the _new_ girl."

Charles held the front door open for the women. "We're here!" he called, and heard Elsie's reply, "I'm in the sunroom!"

Becky entered the house and stopped short. Her mouth fell open as she turned where she stood, trying to take everything in at once: the stone fireplace, the photos, Daisy's bookbag on the sofa where she'd plopped it upon arriving home.

"It's beautiful," she gasped. "Where's my Ellie?"

"Just through here," Charles indicated, stepping past Becky and motioning for her to follow him. Becky remained rooted to the spot, though, so he gently took her hand again and led her past the dining table and into the sunroom.

"Ellie!" Becky cried, dropping Charles's hand and rushing to her sister, who was standing by the door.

"Gently," Elsie cautioned, reaching out to hug her sister. "Oh, I've missed you _so much,_ lass."

"What's this?" Becky asked, her arms full of Elsie and the back brace. She knocked on the hard plastic.

"It's my back brace," Elsie explained. "It keeps my spine straight, which keeps the pressure off of the part that I broke."

"Where?" Becky enquired, and Elsie turned around and unfastened the brace.

"Just here," she said, lifting her shirt and pointing to the spot. "Is it still bruised?"

"A bit," Becky said. "It must really hurt."

"Well, it's uncomfortable to sit for very long, so I spend a great deal of time in bed."

"That's boring," Becky declared, and Elsie nodded.

"You have no idea," she said, rolling her eyes and sighing. "However, I'm all rested up for your visit, although it'll be Daisy and Charles who bring you to the barn later as I can't go out there."

"You don't leave the house?" Becky asked, horrified, and Elsie shook her head.

"Not yet - only for doctor's appointments, and that's hard enough, being in the car and all. In another couple of weeks I'll have started physical therapy to strengthen my muscles, and then walking about will be easier and I'll be able to at least be outside. Right now it's too painful to walk far, and I can't take the chance of slipping and falling on the icy pathway."

"Oh, I see," Becky nodded. "Where's Daisy?"

"She's in her room," Elsie said quietly. "She's looking forward to meeting you though, I'm surprised she's not out yet."

Just as she said the words, Daisy appeared in the doorway.

"Hi, Daisy," Becky said, stretching out her hand. "I'm Ellie's sister, Becky."

"Hi," Daisy ventured, gently shaking Becky's hand.

"Beryl said you don't talk much, but that's okay," Becky said. "My friend doesn't talk much, either."

Daisy nodded, distracted by Becky's appearance. "You _look_ like sisters," she whispered, and Becky gave her a huge smile.

"Well, maybe you _will_ talk," she said sweetly. "To me, perhaps? I won't tell anyone."

Daisy looked at her for a moment, then smiled and nodded.

"Well," Charles said, looking with wonder at Elsie. "That's alright, then."

Elsie looked up and met his gaze, her eyes communicating the relief that she was hesitant to acknowledge out loud.

* * *

Elsie had put out a few games, thinking they'd be a good way to break the ice between Becky and Daisy. She told them to choose, figuring it might encourage some talking if nothing else. She laughed when Daisy and Becky reached for _Sorry!_ at the same time, and Charles just shook his head.

"I'm rubbish at that one," he grumbled.

"That's why I like it," Daisy quipped, and Becky and Elsie laughed.

"He _always_ loses," Elsie not-quite-whispered to Becky.

"So do I," Becky admitted. "Mags plays it with us sometimes. I'm always blue, though … Is that alright?"

"That's _perfect,"_ Charles laughed, patting her on the back. "That's the color Elsie always uses when she beats me. I'll be yellow, then?"

Daisy reached for the red, and Elsie the green. Becky took the cards and began to shuffle them, then set them on the board and told Daisy to go first.

The game progressed fairly well and, true to form, Charles lost miserably. It was Daisy who won, producing a cheer from both her and Becky. Elsie shook her head, marveling at how easily their afternoon was progressing.

"I want to see the animals," Becky declared as she replaced the box top. "Can you bring me?" she asked Daisy, and Daisy nodded.

"I think I'll go, too, if that's alright," Charles ventured. "That way I can feed them all a bit early, and relax once I get home?"

"Sure," Elsie said. "It's not _that_ early, really, and they'll be happy."

Elsie got up, with Charles lending her a helping hand as he noticed her discomfort settling in once again.

 _Don't ask,_ her look said.

"I know," he whispered, kissing her chastely on the lips.

Becky looked on, a small smile on her face. Daisy took her hand and pulled gently, pointing at her feet.

"You'll need barn boots," she said. "Will Elsie's fit?"

"No way!" Becky said, laughing. "She's tiny."

"Well, there's a box downstairs with a few extra pair - I'll show you," Daisy said, leading Becky downstairs.

Charles watched as they walked off, then turned back to Elsie. "How are you, really?" he asked.

"In a lot of pain," she admitted, "but it's worth it to see this. Who'd ever have thought they'd get on so well?"

"I know. Els, shouldn't we tell Becky before she leaves - about the wedding, I mean? She's the only family you've got, really. I think she should know, don't you?"

"Yes, I was thinking that very thing while you were getting your arse kicked in our game," she teased. "I _do_ want to tell her. After the animals, though, alright? That way if she doesn't take to the idea, she won't be upset when she meets them. That could be bad for everyone," Elsie admitted.

"True." He planted one more kiss on her lips. "Be back in a bit," he said. "Will you be in bed?"

Elsie sighed. "I think so, yes," she said, finally caving to the pain.

"Alright."

* * *

Charles found Daisy and Becky downstairs, bundled up and ready to go.

"You found boots, then?" he asked while tugging on his own.

"I did, thank you. The horses are Star and Scarlett, right? Daisy gave me a carrot to feed each of them, just like we used to do when Ellie and I were little."

"Why do you call her 'Ellie?'" Daisy asked.

"Well, when I was little, I couldn't say the _s_ in 'Elsie.' I called her 'Ellie,' and I never stopped. So it's my special name," Becky explained.

Daisy introduced her to the horses, and Becky stroked their manes. She was a bit apprehensive about Star, but he was calm and sweet and nuzzled her hand when she fed him the carrot.

Charles led them through the hen house and they checked for eggs. He was surprised at how good Becky was with all the animals, knowing it had been years since she'd been on any kind of farm, but he was grateful for it.

"I love them," she'd said simply, and he'd smiled.

"Good. I can see they love you right back."

* * *

When it was time to go in, Charles said, "Alright, ladies. Elsie and I have something to discuss with you."

Daisy smiled.

"Is it good?" Becky asked warily.

"I think so," Daisy said with a smile.

They washed up and headed into Elsie's room, where Becky and Daisy sat upon the bed as Charles took his usual chair by the bedside.

"Becky," Elsie said, reaching out for her sister's hand, "have you had a good day today, love?"

"Oh, yes," Becky said, nodding. "Very much. I love it here. I'm ready to go home, though," she added, and Elsie smiled.

"I'm sure you are. But this is important, and as you're my sister, you need to be one of the first to know."

"I hope you're getting married," Becky said bluntly. "To Charles, I mean, of course."

Elsie's eyes widened suddenly. "You do?"

"Oh, yes," Becky nodded. "You're so happy, Ellie. More than … well, more than before," she added, noticing Daisy's furrowed brow. "Ellie? You didn't tell Daisy about Joe?"

Elsie looked over at Daisy, then at Charles, willing him to say something.

"Daisy _does_ know Elsie was married before, Becky," he said softly. "And that Joe passed away."

"Okay," Becky said, and Elsie let out a soft sigh of relief that her sister didn't mention the baby. They'd not yet had _that_ conversation with Daisy, and she didn't feel like having it now.

"So you'd be alright with that?" Charles asked hopefully.

Becky leaned over and gave him a huge hug, a bit awkwardly as she was still on the bed and he was sitting in the chair. "I would," she said happily. "You'll be a great brother, and now I can be an Auntie!" She looked at Daisy then, and added, "Well, if Daisy _wants_ me to be."

But Daisy nodded immediately. "Oh, yes," she whispered. "I do."

"Well, then," Elsie said, a lump in her throat.

"Can I go?" Becky asked suddenly. "To the wedding?"

"Oh, I think we can manage that," Charles said, his voice thick with all the same emotion he saw in Elsie's eyes. "In fact, I see no reason why you two shouldn't be _in_ the wedding. Elsie?"

"I'd love that," she said softly. "Please, Becky, would you? And Daisy?"

Becky smiled at Daisy and winked at her, laughing when Daisy tried to return the wink, and Elsie smiled as she remembered a similar scene from not terribly long ago. "You're getting there," she said to Daisy, who blushed but nodded.

"When is the wedding?" Daisy asked.

Elsie and Charles looked at each other.

"Summer?" she suggested. "I'll be mobile and, hopefully, back to normal with everything," she added, determinedly avoiding his eyes as she said that last bit and recalled their conversation from earlier that morning. "And we'll be out of school, so we could go away on honeymoon."

"I could stay with Auntie Edith," Daisy added.

"Auntie Edith?" Becky asked.

"Charles has lots of very good friends who are like his family," Elsie explained.

"But they're not my _true_ siblings," Charles added. "You'll be my only sister when we're married."

Becky seemed happy with that explanation, and Elsie breathed a small sigh of relief. They'd had such a good day, but Elsie realized she'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop at any moment.

"You _could_ stay there," Charles said, bringing them back around. "So, summer? July, or August?"

"August," Elsie said immediately. "July is too hot."

"Well, then I guess you'd better start planning!"

"If you think I'm planning this wedding without you, you've got another thing coming," Elsie said firmly. "No way - this is a joint venture, pal."

"Actually, I was only kidding," he admitted, squeezing Elsie's hand and lifting it to kiss the back of it. "I'd like to help, to have a say in my own wedding."

"Yes, I can imagine," she murmured, understanding in what he didn't say that his _last_ one had likely been under the control of the Crawley family, as well as - perhaps - Alice's parents.

"Alright," Elsie sighed. "Time for you to head out. Daisy, would you like to go with them, see where Becky lives?"

"Yes, if I may," Daisy said.

"You've finished your homework?"

"Yes - _all_ of it," Daisy grumbled.

"Good - your meeting is next week, petal. We'll take care of _that_ soon. Alright, get your shoes on, then."

He turned to Elsie. "We have a house full of food from Beryl. I'll pop something in before we head out. Any requests?"

"Is there a chicken something in there?" she asked hopefully. "Maybe one of her pot pies?"

"I believe there are _two_ of those," he chuckled. "Sounds good." He leaned over to kiss her, keeping his behavior in check as Becky was still at the foot of the bed.

"I love you," Elsie murmured, and he hummed.

"I know," he answered, smiling. "Thank you."

" _I_ love you, too, Charlie," Becky said bluntly, and Charles turned around as Becky tackled him with a hug.

"Well, then, I'm doubly blessed," he said, hugging her back as Elsie looked on.

"Perfect," she whispered. "My life is absolutely, positively _perfect."_

* * *

 ** _A teensy review would be so very much appreciated, if possible. :)_**


	33. For Real

**A/N: So, here we are. These next couple chapters are what I think of as "gentle" and not "overly dramatic." Not a bad thing, and lots of informative stuff coming but, as one of you pointed out, recovery IS boring and it IS maddening and it IS slow-going, and I am trying to show that here. However, there ARE those little things to tie up ... the little, happy moments amidst all of Elsie's down time, too. :)**

 **Special shout-outs to my besties, who answer my relentless messages and texts, who proofread faithfully, who listen to me grumble and offer words of encouragement and support when I'm going, "Eh ... I don't like how this is going." I love you guys, and am truly blessed to have you. MWAH**

 **To the kind souls who dropped loveliness in my PM inbox here this weekend, thank you. You have no idea how timely those messages were.**

 **Fluff ahead - please enjoy, and leave a quick review at the end if you feel so inclined. xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _Saturday, March 14, 2015 - italics below from the Thursday previous ..._**

The next week and a half went much the same – a bit of grouchiness here and there, mixed in with an inordinate amount of sleep. Elsie had put her 'Girls' Day' with Isobel off for a week, scheduling it for today instead of a week previous, because Daisy would be at Edith's for a sleepover. In the meantime, there had been visits with Beryl and Anna, a check-up with Isobel, and one trip back to the hospital for a follow-up with Dr. Clarkson (which, much to Elsie's relief, Isobel attended as the bearer of good news in the 'Elsie's progress' department) ...

" _I'm pleased to hear things are going well," the doctor told them. "And you're wearing the brace all the time, correct?"_

" _Yes, whenever I'm not in the shower or asleep, just like you said." Elsie noticed Dr. Clarkson give a sideways glance to Isobel, who nodded._

" _Excellent. Alright, let's get you out of it and see what's what."_

 _The next few moments were spent with Elsie undoing the brace, something at which she had become quite adept, and Isobel helping her onto the exam table as Dr. Clarkson washed his hands._

" _Hmm," he said, feeling the area for swelling. "This looks remarkably good," he added. "How's the pain been, on a scale of one to ten?"_

" _When you press on it like that?" Elsie asked with a grimace. "Seven. Otherwise, when I'm in the brace and just moving about the house, it's about a three."_

" _She's been off the pain meds for a while now," Isobel added._

" _Remarkable – I'm impressed, Elsie."_

" _It helps that you can't move around much in your sleep," Isobel said, smirking._

 _Elsie shot her a scathing look, realizing as she did so that she was blushing._

" _What's this?" Dr. Clarkson asked._

" _Charles is sleeping with her," Isobel volunteered, ignoring Elsie's eye roll. "Keeping her from moving around in her sleep, she claims."_

" _I think that's an excellent idea," he replied, much to both women's surprise._

" _Really?" Elsie piped up, no longer embarrassed._

" _Absolutely. You're used to sleeping with him, I presume? It likely makes you more comfortable, more at ease, and better able to sleep deeply."_

 _Elsie smiled triumphantly. "That it does, which is why I suggested it originally. And he's warm as anything, which has actually helped with my leg. I call him my personal hot water bottle."_

 _Dr. Clarkson laughed out loud. "Whatever works, Elsie." Then he thought of something, and raised an eyebrow. "As long as you're only_ _ **sleeping**_ _in that bed, then I think it's a terrific idea."_

" _We are," she whispered, painfully avoiding Isobel's gaze._

" _Alright," he chuckled. "Just checking. None of_ _ **that**_ _until you've started PT. Too much trauma to the lower back."_

" _Will that be all?" Elsie asked, thoroughly done with the turn their conversation had taken._

 _Dr. Clarkson entered another note into the computer, then logged off. "Yes, that's it. Your progress is most impressive; you're done with your round of steroids and off the painkillers. You have a healthy appetite, yes? And are keeping hydrated?"_

 _Elsie nodded. "Generally, yes. Charles has had to force me to eat or have a protein shake at times, but I'm getting my three squares_ _ **and**_ _a ton of water. I'm a pro at using the loo by myself now," she said, half-joking._

" _Ha – excellent! Alright, then. I leave you to Dr. Crawley's outstanding care for another two weeks. Next time I see you, you'll be almost out of the brace and will have started PT."_

" _Thank you, Doctor," Elsie said, sliding gently off the bed._

" _Are you all set to get your blouse and brace back on by yourself? I'd like to chat with Dr. Crawley for a moment, if you don't mind."_

" _Oh, I'm fine – she's all yours," Elsie replied with a knowing smile. She took a small amount of pride in the flush that appeared on Isobel's cheeks, having guessed a while ago how attractive Isobel found the local doctor._

 _Dr. Clarkson opened the door and extended his arm. "After you," he said, motioning for Isobel to pass through ..._

As Elsie thought back to that day, she realized she'd never asked Isobel about the meeting. Once she'd gotten dressed and out of the room, Isobel had been waiting by the check-out desk, and by the time they'd set up a follow-up appointment and had gotten back to the car, Elsie had been exhausted and had actually fallen asleep on the ride home. She still couldn't believe how tired she was all the time, given the fact that she was literally lying around doing nothing instead of doing farm chores half the day.

"Isobel?" Elsie called from the living room. "You don't have to clean my entire kitchen today, you know. That wasn't the point of us having a day to spend together - at least, it's not how you billed it when you suggested it!"

Isobel's laugh sounded across the open space. "I'm not! I'm just washing up the dishes from the cookies I made. Give me a minute. Have you heard from Charles?"

"No," Elsie replied, checking her phone. "I'm sure he's busy, though, getting it all done," she added with a sigh and a smile. Charles had been banished to the beach house to finish packing the belongings that he and Daisy would be moving to the farm, and while it was odd that he'd not been in touch, Elsie attributed it to the fact that she was home under Isobel's careful watch.

"There, all done." Isobel wiped her hands on a towel as she came in.

Elsie gave her a sweet smile, which immediately had Isobel suspicious.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," Elsie began, and she noted gleefully that Isobel's gaze landed on the floor in front of her, her lips pursed as though she refused to speak.

"Mm?"

"Oh, please," Elsie said extra sweetly, patting the sofa cushion beside her. "Here, have a seat."

Isobel closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. "I know what this is about, Elsie."

"Oh, come here and humor me. And then, afterwards, I may even _embarrass_ you."

"Oh, how enticing you've made it sound!" Isobel laughed, obeying Elsie's request and sitting beside her. "What, pray tell, would you like to ask?"

"When's the date?"

Isobel's eyebrows flew up. "Date? What date?"

"The one you'd damn well better have set up with Richard Clarkson. _That_ date."

Isobel just shook her head. "I don't know _what_ you mean," she said, her hands clutched tightly around the towel in her lap.

"Bullshit," Elsie uttered. "I saw you together out in the corridor of that hospital _before_ I exited the room. He touched your arm, Isobel – I _saw_ it. The man doesn't touch anyone unless it's a patient. I've seen him in mixed company, he's just not effusive in that way. He _likes_ you."

Isobel turned her gaze on her friend, and a sadness passed over her face. "I like him, too," she said. "And I've no business doing so."

"Why not?"

"Elsie," Isobel sighed, exasperated. "I'm going _back_ eventually, back to my job, my home. You know, the _life_ I have an ocean away? Where would that leave us?"

"In a long-distance relationship until one of you retires?" Elsie suggested.

"No, I'm sorry," Isobel replied, "but I can't do that to him. It's completely unfair!"

"Did you ask him what _he_ thought?"

"He knows I'm returning," she admitted, "because it was the reason I turned him down."

"So he _did_ ask you out!" Elsie exclaimed. "I knew it!"

"He did, and _I said 'no',"_ Isobel reiterated. "Because it's not fair to date a man for a month or so and then leave him high and dry."

"Do you _have_ to go back?" Elsie enquired softly.

"Sorry? Of course I do."

"Why? I don't mean to sound rude, Isobel, but we both know you don't _need_ the job. What keeps you there? Who's managing it now?"

"Well, I only work part-time really, so it was easy to have one of the attendings cover my shifts while I'm here. But I can't just up and leave _forever,_ Elsie. It's … it would be too much," she said quietly.

"I see," was all Elsie said. "Well, that's too bad."

Isobel fiddled with the towel in her lap. "It is," she said sadly. "He's a _very_ nice man, and judging from the conversations we had by your bedside as you lay sleeping, we have a great deal in common."

Elsie thought of something. "Isobel … you've not always been single." It was a statement, not a question, something she'd heard in passing when she and Isobel had met but something which Elsie realized now she knew very little about.

The older woman smiled sadly. "No. I was married, once, to a lovely man. We had a son – Matthew. He died unexpectedly three years ago, and his father had passed five years before him. I used to have my own little family, and then, in two blinks of an eye, they were gone."

 _Three years ago …_ "And that's why you're so close to Violet and the others now, I presume?"

"Mm-hm. They're the only family I have left, really."

"And us, now," Elsie said quietly, reaching out and clasping Isobel's hand in hers.

"And you," Isobel answered gratefully. "Well, once you've made it official."

Elsie blushed scarlet, and Isobel gasped softly. "Elsie, don't tell me that's happening soon? Has he _proposed?"_

"Yes," Elsie admitted. "But we've not told the family, although Edith guessed from Charles last week. Daisy knows, and she's allowed to speak about it with Marigold, and we told Becky. But that's all. _Please_ don't tell anyone, Isobel. As it is, Beryl and Anna will be furious with me if they know Edith found out first!"

"I shall say nothing, it's _your_ news to share. And for what it's worth, I think it's wonderful! Charles being extraordinarily happy is the best thing for that little girl," Isobel observed, "and _you_ make him happy. It's quite simple, really."

"Is it? This from the woman who won't leave a job she doesn't need to stay here with a man who could quite easily fall in love with her? I see."

Isobel squeezed Elsie's hand, having just realized she was still holding it. "It's not the same, and you know it. You're both here, you're perfect for each other. Daisy came into your life needing something, something that I sense you were in a unique position to provide. Evidently Charles thought so, too, and the chemistry and love between you is … well, undeniable. It would be ridiculous for you not to pursue that, to make the most of it. Completely different from my story, my dear."

"Perhaps," Elsie acknowledged, "but I still think you should have dinner with the man, see where it goes."

"Perhaps," Isobel said, mimicking her with a smirk. "Now, what was this other thing you wanted to talk about … as if I didn't know?"

"Oh … um, well …" Elsie stammered. It occurred to her she'd lost all her courage, and no longer wanted to ask anything at all, but she knew Isobel wouldn't stand for it.

"Yes?" Isobel sat back and crossed her arms across her chest, waiting.

"Well, it's been almost a month now since the accident, and I'm healing really well," Elsie began.

"Yes, you are. The doctor confirms it, and I know you've much more mobility than you had before."

"Quite so. And it's that _mobility_ I wanted to discuss with you," Elsie murmured.

"I thought it might be."

"Right. So, I'm out of this brace in another couple weeks, we think. I know he'd said eight weeks initially, but he said six is more likely _if_ I'm good until then, if I take it easy, and if I do all of my physical therapy as required. _And_ the leg is back to normal."

"Thankfully."

"Erm, yes, thankfully." Elsie looked up at Isobel, who saw the look on her face and laughed as she leaned forward so that Elsie would hear her voice clearly.

"I think," she whispered, "that you should be fine in another couple weeks, once you've built up some strength in PT, if you're, you know, _on top."_

"Oh, my God," Elsie whispered, covering her face with her hands. "I cannot believe you just said that."

"How _else_ am I supposed to explain it? You asked! Well, you didn't actually _ask,_ but let's face it – you two must be going absolutely bonkers not having done anything for a _month_. I mean, come on!"

Elsie peered through her fingers, her face burning so much she thought she must be steaming. "Well, we _have …_ done _things,"_ she whispered.

"Ha!" Isobel shouted. "Good for you! Where there's a will, there's a way?"

"Something like that," Elsie muttered.

"But not in the bed, Elsie, please tell me you _will_ listen to Richard in that regard," Isobel said seriously, not realizing she'd referred to the doctor with his given name.

"No," Elsie said, nibbling her lip, "we've been … upright and … Oh, hell, I'm not giving you the details! You're worse than Beryl, do you know that?"

Isobel laughed gleefully. "Oh, Elsie, I _am_ happy for you though. I wondered how it was you weren't killing one another by the end of every day, but that does explain it."

She looked at her new friend fondly, and gave her a caring smile. "I must say, it's rather sweet the way he looks at you, Elsie."

"Like he wants to have me for dinner?" Elsie whispered, nodding. "Yes, I've warned him about that before."

Isobel cocked her head and laughed a bit. "Sometimes, yes," she said softly. "But usually, it's just _love_ that we can see. He absolutely adores you, Elsie. More than I think even you know, and more than I think you ever see yourself."

But Elsie shook her own head, her hair bouncing softly around her face. "No, that's where you're wrong, Isobel. I _do_ see it. Every day, every minute, every time. I've never felt anything like it in my life."

"And that's why you want to marry him."

"No," Elsie replied. "I want to marry him because it's also how _I_ feel about _him._ As though I'll never be this happy ever again without him."

"Well, then, there you have it. A match made in heaven."

Elsie's smile reappeared, widening as she thought about it. "That's true," she replied. "Very, very true."

"Just be careful – and, you know … relatively immobile."

"We never had this conversation, Isobel."

"What conversation?" Isobel asked, patting Elsie's hand and giving her a slight wink.

At that moment, Charles came up the stairs from the basement, his feet clad only in socks.

"I'm home, and everyone's fed," he announced, heading to the sink to wash his hands. "The water had a thin layer of ice on it, so I turned up the heat a few degrees in the barn – I hope that's okay," he said.

"Perfect, thank you," Elsie replied, leaning up as he came in to kiss her.

"What have you girls been up to?" he asked, and Isobel giggled. Charles looked at her strangely; he didn't think he'd _ever_ heard her giggle.

"Just chatting," Elsie said, a beautiful smile on her otherwise exhausted face.

"I see," he answered hesitantly. "And should I ask about what?"

Isobel shook her head. "No," she snickered, "absolutely _not!"_

"Right," he said, his ears turning bright red as he figured out _precisely_ what they'd been discussing. "Well, then, I'm headed in to shower. Unless you need anything at the moment?"

Elsie bit her lip again and shook her head. "Nope. Not yet, anyhow," she muttered, and winked at him.

Charles flushed furiously, and turned to walk away before Isobel noticed.

* * *

"So, Daisy's meeting is finally happening Monday?" Elsie asked. She and Charles were snuggled up in bed, trying to catch up on the business of the day.

"Yes, thankfully. Although I have to say, it _was_ thoughtful of Phyllis to reschedule it given what we've had going on. Oh, and I forgot to tell you, Tommy called."

"Oh, good! Can he come by this week?"

"He can. I'll bring him Tuesday, pick him up at school when I get Daisy. You should call Anna, tell her to expect him, maybe make a list of things he can do?" he suggested, and she nodded.

"Yes, we talked about that before," Elsie said. "If he can come two days a week, that would be amazing."

"He said he'll come three, if you'll have him. I told him that was a likely yes."

"It's a _resounding_ yes! I'm sure he could use the work, and we certainly could use the help."

"Yes, well, his mother should call you tomorrow or Monday to iron it out, but I doubt she'll have any complaints … not from what he said, anyhow."

"Hm," Elsie murmured, "I don't suppose she will. I must say, things do seem better with them lately."

"Well, the father's not coming back, is he?" Charles asked softly. "So that has to be good."

Elsie knew he was right, but she really needed a change of topic. "So, you're all packed?"

Charles turned to his side and snuggled closer up to her, his arm draped over her abdomen. "Mm-hm," he said, kissing her shoulder. "Boxes are piled in the living room for now. Thankfully the furniture is all Mary's, except for the piano, and she's happy to keep that there for the time being. We'll figure out where to put it all when you feel better, though. I took all of the clothes with me, but I'll have to get them out of the car tomorrow," he added with a yawn. "I forgot once I finished in the barn."

"I'm glad you managed to get it all packed," she said, absentmindedly trailing her fingers over his arm and shoulder as he laid his head on her chest. "I can't wait until you're just here for good, and I don't mind saying it."

She felt his smile on her skin, the upturned cheek and slight stubble against the edge of her nightgown.

"Neither can we. So, Elsie, tell me … Isobel. How was your day?"

"Wonderful. We watched a sappy, romantic movie and painted our nails, and she made me chocolate chip cookies," she said, showing him her manicure. "It was like being sixteen - and it was fun, and I needed it more than I thought," she admitted.

"What did you watch?"

" _Fried Green Tomatoes,"_ she replied. She could practically feel him roll his eyes. "Don't even," she warned. "There were reasons I kicked you out, and that was one of them."

"I will have you know I've seen that one, and I even enjoyed it."

"Really? Will wonders never cease?" she teased.

"So, lots of boy talk?" he teased, but she surprised him.

"There was. It appears our local doctor does, indeed, have a soft spot for our Yorkshire friend."

"Oh, that's too bad," he murmured, raising himself up on his elbow so he could see her as they spoke.

"Well, perhaps not."

"Elsie, love, you know she's going back. That's not really fair to him, is it?"

"Yes, so she said. But you know she doesn't _have_ to go back. I mean, she could move here …"

"Els, no. Isobel isn't you, or me. She's … Well, it may not be the right time," he said hesitantly.

"She told me about Matthew," she whispered. "And I can understand how she doesn't want to leave them there, leave it all behind. And yet, she sounds as though she's _considered_ it. I think they should go out on a date and then she can decide."

"My little matchmaker," he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Well, _we're_ happy," she explained, "so I want everyone else to be, too."

"We _are_ happy, aren't we?" Charles stared at her for a moment, then leaned over for a long, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, he whispered, "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?"

He scrambled out of the bed and fetched his coat from the rack in the hallway. As he came back into the bedroom, Elsie saw him fishing something out of the coat's large pocket before he sat in the chair by the bed.

"I saw it, and I couldn't believe how perfect it was … It was nothing like what I went in search of but, when I saw it, I couldn't resist. It's _us."_

"Charlie?" Elsie asked, thoroughly confused. "What are you on about?"

"Well, I may not have spent the _entire_ day at the beach house."

He opened his hand and held out a small, black, velvet box. He cracked open the lid and heard her astonished gasp.

"Elsie, will you _really_ marry me? Make it official, do it properly? Tell everyone?"

She was speechless as she stared at the ring that resided in the box. After a few moments she managed to close her mouth and look at Charles, trying to wrap her head around the box's contents.

Set in the velvet holder was the most exquisite ring Elsie had ever laid eyes on. The center was a pearl, not a diamond, and it was surrounded by six small emeralds - three above the pearl and three below - with two large amethyst stones on either side of the pearl. She reached her hand out slowly, realizing it was shaking, and took the box from his hand.*

"It _is_ us," she whispered, tears falling from the corners of her eyes down onto the pillow. "I mean it's _really us,_ Charlie."

"It is. I'm glad you see it, too. I was afraid you'd be disappointed …" he said sheepishly.

"Disappointed? How could I be?" she said, wiping at her eyes. "How old is this ring?"

"It dates back to the late 1880s," he told her. "Which is why I wasn't sure if I should get it. I had this image of what I wanted when I walked in, which was nothing like this particular ring. Edith recommended the jeweler, said he could craft anything I wanted if I didn't find what I was looking for. But he had this small section of antique jewelry, and I had to look. It was the first one I laid eyes on, and the symbolism of it was too great to ignore."

Elsie examined the ring again, brushing the fingers over the stones. The pearl in the center was her birthstone - June ninth, she remembered telling him that on their first date. The pearl was surrounded as though in an embrace by the diminutive emeralds - Daisy's birthstone - and the two large amethysts, representative of Charles and his February birthday.

He removed it from the box. Elsie extended her hand and he slipped the ring over her finger, holding his breath in fear that he'd misjudged her ring size; having been afraid to ask and ruin the surprise, he'd put a string to another ring in her jewelry box one afternoon when she'd been asleep, measuring as precisely as he could.

He hadn't misjudged, of course; it fit perfectly.

Elsie held up her hand and examined the ring on her finger - it looked incredible, and she couldn't have been happier. She reached her hand out to cup his cheek and he turned his head a bit to kiss her palm.

"Yes," she said at last. "Yes, I will marry you. For real, and _please_ let's tell everyone tomorrow! Isobel already guessed," she admitted, blushing.

"Well, Edith did, too, so that's only fair," Charles said, taking up her hand. "And we can tell everyone whenever you want. I'd like to call Robert first, though, and let them know. You can decide about the people in Misty Cove. Beryl will kill you for not telling _her_ first," he added, and she laughed.

"She'll be fine," Elsie chuckled. "But I'll tell her tomorrow, I think. She's supposed to stop by after church."

"Good." He got up from the chair and back into the bed.

"I love you, you know," Elsie said, running her fingers through his hair.

"Mm," he said, kissing her once again. "Elsie?"

"What?"

"What else did you and Isobel discuss?" he asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"How long?" he asked hopefully, and she laughed.

"Another couple weeks, but only if we're extraordinarily careful," she said, reaching out to caress his back as he leaned over her. "Once I start PT, and have some muscle built back up, and can manage to … well, sit more comfortably?"

His eyes lit up, and she laughed. "Yes, Charlie, like that."

"Excellent," he said, a roguish look on his face. "I'll look forward to it."

"Mm, me too," Elsie said.

Charles reached over to shut off the light, then tucked himself back around her.

"This alright?" he asked, and she nodded as he held her in his arms as best he could without pulling on her body. He reached over and kissed the hair at her temple.

"Yes, it's wonderful. Good night, love."

He kissed her one last time before tucking his head in over her shoulder. "Good night, Els."

* * *

 ***The ring's picture can be seen on my tumblr - just find my username, chelsiesouloftheabbey, same as here. x**


	34. Daisy's Meeting

**A/N: Thanks to you all for the amazing reviews that just keep on coming! I can't even wrap my head around all the support and love you have for this story. Shout-out to the fab guest reviewers, to whom I cannot reply directly, and to all of you who reblog on tumblr and leave such kindness in my Inbox on a regular basis. To those who keep sending your guesses about the endgame of this fic, keep 'em coming! I've got a tally list for death requests, pregnancy requests, and more. This fic will go at LEAST six more chapters, and then we'll see where we are ... who knows? As long as you're still enjoying it, I am making no definitive plans.**

 **This chapter is lengthy and is only partially beta'd (hugs to brenna-louise!) as I went back afterwards and added a bunch of stuff. It is a smattering of everything, but the biggest chunk is Daisy's team meeting. I've lost count of how many of these things I've attended as an educator and, if you're in the UK, your system is likely different to what you'll read here. If you've got questions, shoot me a message - I'm happy to answer them.**

 **Chelsie on! xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _Monday, March 16, 2015 - early a.m._**

Charles's mind was miles away as he rubbed Elsie's back dry with the soft bath sheet. He was present enough to be gentle, but she could tell just by his touch that he was preoccupied.

"Penny for them?" she said quietly. "As if I didn't know."

"I'm sorry, love," he said, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

"Don't be - you'll be fine today," she encouraged. "Just, you know … count to five before speaking, perhaps?"

He looked down and noticed the teasing in her eyes and, underneath it, her unwavering support and devotion; seeing it all was almost his emotional undoing.

"I love you," he rumbled. "So much."

"Oh, Charlie," Elsie whispered, tilting her head up for a kiss that he readily gave.

"And I shall try to think before I speak to that horrid woman, I promise. But if she comes out with any unkind words about you, I will not be responsible for my actions."

"She won't," Elsie said, shaking her head. "Not with Edith there. At least, I don't _think_ she will. And especially not if Daisy's there. No, you should be fine."

Charles started to help her on with her underwear but got distracted, depositing kisses all over her body.

"Charlie, you shouldn't."

He stood and placed his forehead on hers. "I know, I'm sorry."

"Me, too," she sighed. "And I know that after the physical therapist leaves today I will be even _less_ comfortable than I am now."

Charles looked at the clock atop the medicine chest.

"We _are_ ahead of schedule," he murmured hopefully. "By about half an hour."

She looked at the clock disbelievingly. "How is that even possible?"

"You woke me up early," he whispered, trailing his hands down her hips and smiling as he heard her moan, knowing her resolve was crumbling with alarming rapidity, as was his own. "God, I miss you sometimes, even though you're _right here."_

"Mmm ... Do you think Daisy's awake?"

Charles shook his head. "At five forty-five? Not a chance," he said.

"Charlie?" she gasped as his hands continued to wander.

"Please, Els," he begged, bending to place a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her breast, desperate to see her come undone before him.

"Charles!" she said more forcefully, and he stopped. "Could you shut the door?"

He smiled and turned to do so, and then he gave her his undivided attention once again.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said, gently pulling her body against his as his lips came crashing down on her neck.

* * *

Charles dropped Daisy off at school with a promise to see her again in three hours for her meeting. She gave him a peck on the cheek and bounded in, meeting Tommy on the front step.

"Hey, Daisy. How's it going?"

"Okay," she said quietly, scanning their surroundings to verify that they were relatively alone. "You coming over today?"

"Yeah, your father said he'd give me a ride. How's Ms. Hughes?"

"She's happy _you're_ coming," Daisy said honestly. "And she's terribly bored stuck at home."

"Home?" he asked, and Daisy blushed a bit. He felt as though he'd caught her out somehow, but didn't want to pry - he didn't need Ms. Hughes and Mr. Carson thinking he was nosing around in their business, and figured he'd get his answer that afternoon, anyhow.

"For now," Daisy managed.

"Okay. See you here at the end of the day, then?"

Daisy thought Tommy looked a bit apprehensive. She nodded and smiled at him, and it seemed to calm him a bit.

"Alright. See you later, Daisy," he said, turning and heading down the sixth-grade hallway.

Jimmy was waiting by his locker, giving Tommy a strange look as he started to twirl the knob to his combination.

"She's talking to you," Jimmy observed.

"Yeah," Tommy said. "Kind of has to, really, as we'll be working together starting this afternoon." He never bothered telling Jimmy about that day at the movies, and didn't feel the need to explain it now, either. It was like one sweet secret that he was keeping for himself, something thought back upon during the nights when the rest of his life wasn't going so great. _Although,_ he told himself, _things **are** better now._

"That farm thing? Still doing stuff there, then?"

Tommy pulled himself back to the present. "Yeah, Ms. Hughes can't do anything at all, really, and it's a big place."

"I miss her," Jimmy admitted, and Tommy raised his eyebrows. "I do!" Jimmy insisted. "That new guy in the nurse's office is awful."

"Agreed," Tommy sighed, remembering back to when he'd pop in and chat with Ms. Hughes about this and that, on the days when he needed a bite to eat and even on the days he didn't. He realized how much he was looking forward to seeing her, and he smiled.

"Tell her I said 'hi,'" Jimmy said.

"I will," Tommy answered as they headed to class. "Absolutely."

* * *

"Alright," Beryl said, plopping down at the dining room table in a huff. "What was _so important_ that you couldn't wait to tell me?" She looked at Elsie, and then watched as Charles came into the dining room to join them. He stood behind Elsie and placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, his face completely devoid of emotion.

Beryl looked from him to her friend and back again. "Oh, God," she muttered, "please don't tell me it's bad news …"

Elsie watched as the color drained from Beryl's face and immediately regretted the words she'd used when calling the woman that morning, things like 'vitally important we see you today' and 'tell no one I've called' and 'private conversation.'

"Oh, no, Beryl! Nothing's bad! In fact … everything is _wonderful,_ I think," she said, laying her hand over Beryl's arm and squeezing it.

Beryl looked down and saw the ring, and her jaw dropped.

"No!" she whispered, her eyes flying once again back to Charles's face, trying to process the fact that the ring was not a diamond solitaire, and yet ... yet ... his face showed nothing but hints of amusement and pride, and she _knew._ "You never did!"

"He _did_ \- twice," Elsie admitted. "We discussed it weeks ago, actually, when I came home from the hospital."

"But … you never said ... _that_ is definitely new, though," she insisted, pointing at the ring. "I'd have seen it the other day ... I ... I ..." Her mouth clapped shut and eyes flew back and forth between them once again as she tried one more time to speak coherently. "You're not kidding me?" she asked, her eyes welling with tears that she absolutely _refused_ to shed.

"The ring _is_ new, yes, as of Saturday night," Elsie said. "And, no, we aren't kidding. We had to tell Daisy and Becky first, of course."

"So no one else knows yet?" Beryl asked, and she spotted the guilty look on Elsie's face. "Elsie?"

"Well, almost no one," Elsie admitted sheepishly. "Edith and Isobel know, but only because they _guessed_ in the most uncanny of ways. And now you, and Daisy and Becky."

"And how did Becky take the news?" Beryl asked, hopeful.

"Very well, indeed," Charles chimed in. "We told her we had something important to speak to her about, and she informed us that she hoped we were getting married."

"Well, you can't get much easier than that," Beryl said, wiping her eyes furiously as she fought a losing battle with the tears. "And Daisy is happy, no doubt?"

"She is ecstatic," Charles said. "I just can't believe it."

Elsie looked at Beryl, expecting the woman to start screeching any second, but she was pleasantly surprised.

"I can believe it," Beryl said, reaching over to squeeze Elise's hand and meeting her gaze. "I'm so _very_ happy for you, love. You deserve this big git _and_ his sweetheart of a daughter. _You. Deserve. This._ Don't ever forget that."

A tear spilled down Elsie's cheek as she shook her head. "I don't know why," she said, "but I'm not going to complain."

"So," Beryl began, a smile lighting up her face, "big wedding? Catered? Cake? Whatever you want, Els, you know I'll make it happen."

Elsie put her hand out as if to stop the woman. "I know - _we_ know, and we've not really had a chance to discuss it. Charles has to tell his family, of course, and I need to get back on my feet for good. But you'll be the one we ask once we figure it all out, of course."

"Fair enough," Beryl said, getting up to go and place a kiss to Elsie's cheek before doing the same to Charles. "I can't think of two people more suited to one another - and I truly mean that," she said. "You've clicked from the very beginning, and if you can get through all of this recovery baloney, well, I imagine you can get through just about anything."

"I think you're right," Charles said, clasping Elsie's hand in his when she reached up to touch his fingers.

* * *

Ten minutes after Charles headed to the school for Daisy's meeting, the doorbell chimed at the house.

"Come in!" Elsie called.

"We're here," Isobel called down the hall. "You decent?"

 _I am now,_ Elsie thought with a smile. _Good thing you weren't here just before six._ "Of course!"

Isobel led a woman down to the sunroom. "This is Gladys Denker," she said. The woman moved forward to shake Elsie's hand. "She's going to be doing your PT."

"Pleased to meet you," Elsie said. She noticed that the woman was slightly taller than she was and that she appeared very, _very_ strong and ... well, not a pushover.

"Oh, you won't be," Gladys cackled. "Not when I'm done with you."

"Well, my goal is to get better, and I _am_ a nurse myself, so I think I'm prepared," Elsie bristled.

"We'll see, sweetie," she said. "You've been using heat and ice, yes? And moving about the house a bit?"

"I have," Elsie confirmed. "Dr. Clarkson told me the swelling was totally gone after two weeks, and I am only spending about three hours lying in bed during the day. I wear the brace all the time, and I have been walking around the house doing little things - letting the dog out, getting the mail, reading. I helped make dinner the other night -"

"No bending or lifting though, right?" Gladys interrupted.

"No, no bending or lifting," Elsie said. "And no stairs."

"Good, and the stairs will start today," Gladys said. "Alright, here's the plan …"

She spent the next ten minutes showing Elsie a series of handouts on which were diagrams of the various exercises they'd be working on for the two weeks that Gladys would be coming to the house; after that, Elsie would continue the exercises daily for an additional four weeks. They would vary in intensity as the days progressed, of course, and they involved a few items that Gladys had to fetch from the car: a huge, inflatable exercise ball, a set of large rubber bands with handles that attached to the doorknob, a set of low-weight dumbbells, a yoga mat, and a cane.

"Today we're just going to test your strength and work a bit with the exercise ball. You will go up and down the stairs, though, which will enable me to get a feel for your muscle strength." She stood back and assessed Elsie's figure. "You stay in shape, I see."

"I do," Elsie agreed. "Lifting fifty-pound sacks of feed and countless bales of hay have seen to that!"

"Good. Your abdominal muscle strength is key here, so hopefully you've not lost much of that. Alright, let's go."

The next half hour was spent getting the ball inflated and helping Elsie to balance on it - no easy feat with the brace on her back preventing her from bending her torso.

"In the future you'll be taking that brace off for these," Gladys said, watching as Elsie sat on the ball and pulled the bands toward her chest in an even motion. "Tighten those abs," she added.

"I am," Elsie grumbled.

Isobel stood back, shaking her head and wondering which of the women was going to come out on top of what was already shaping up to be a battle of the wills.

They progressed to the stairs - the front steps to start, and then the longer basement staircase. Gladys gave Elsie the cane and instructed her to use it to help distribute her weight. After some arguing from both women, and a determined insistence on the part of Gladys, Elsie managed to go up and down the entire basement staircase with only minimal instruction and reminders from Gladys.

Isobel watched with great interest, holding in her laughter as her friend the nurse had to become the lowly patient once again.

 _Still,_ she thought, _in the long run, my money's on Elsie winning **this** battle. She'll master fourteen days' worth of therapy in a week._

* * *

"Mr. Carson, good to see you again," Phyllis said, shaking his hand and then motioning to one of the chairs at the table. "Please, have a seat and sign here," she added, sliding the meeting attendance form over to him. "We're just waiting for the last block to finish."

The bell sounded seconds later and the corridor became a flurry of noisy activity. Edith made her way in and Charles stood to greet her, placing a fond kiss to her cheek before the teachers arrived.

"You're looking well, my dear," he said, beaming, and she nodded and rubbed her abdomen absentmindedly.

"Thank you, I _feel_ well, finally," she said. "We're starting to get really excited now."

"I bet you are - I remember that excitement," he said, a pang of something very faint settling in his stomach … something he pushed down forcefully and refused to acknowledge.

"Bertie is simply beside himself," Edith smiled, adding her signature to the attendance sheet.

Charles sat and took a small notepad from his jacket pocket; he set it down, opened it, and wrote the date at the top. He didn't trust himself to remember every detail that might come up, and he knew Elsie would want a play-by-play … a thought that pleased him greatly.

Sarah O'Brien and Joseph Molesley joined them in short order, and Charles stood to greet them both and shake their hands. He noted Mr. Molesley's warm smile and how it contrasted to Miss O'Brien's cold, reserved look.

"Mr. Carson," she said. "How wise of you to request a meeting. How is Ms. Hughes?"

Her 'concern' took him by surprise. "Getting stronger every day," he said honestly, "and looking forward to returning to work after the April break. I'll be sure to tell her you asked," he couldn't help adding.

"Alright," Phyllis said, and everyone sat. "We're here because Mr. Carson has some concerns regarding how well Daisy has adjusted to school here in Misty Cove so far and, more specifically, regarding the difficulties she's had since Elsie's fall. You all are aware that Daisy witnessed the fall and, in fact, stayed right by Elsie's side until emergency personnel arrived. It was, as I'm sure I don't need to explain, rather traumatic for her."

"I can't even begin to imagine," Joseph said kindly, shaking his head. "But you wouldn't know it, not really. Not from what I've seen since she's returned, anyhow."

"So she's up-to-date with her work in your classes?" Phyllis asked, and he nodded.

"Oh, yes, no issues at all. She's doing remarkably well in both Math and Science, which is wonderful given that Math is clearly her weaker area," he said, and Sarah huffed.

"Something to add, Miss O'Brien?" Phyllis asked her. "Is Daisy still behind in your classes?"

"She is in English," Sarah stated flatly, signing into her online gradebook. She clicked on Daisy's name and turned the screen so that everyone could see.

"She hasn't finished her book report project that was due on Friday," she began, "or, if she has, she's not turned it in yet." She looked at Charles and added, "She was able to submit that online via Google, but I've received nothing from her, and I am positive that she understands _how_ to do it."

"I see," he said, making a note in his notepad. "I noticed that wasn't noted as being turned in when I looked her grades up over the weekend, but she assured me that she did, indeed, share it."

"Well, I've not received it," Sarah insisted. "There's also the worksheet that went with last week's independent reading that's missing," she said, "which was due last Friday."

Charles noted it before looking back at Miss O'Brien. "Might I be able to sign into her account here and see why the book report project was not shared, and share it with you now? Or, better yet," he said, looking at Edith, "can we get _Daisy_ down her so that _she_ can address that?"

"We certainly can," Edith said, nodding. "We'll call her down once we've gone through the rest of her accommodations. I want to make sure each of them is still necessary, given that Mr. Molesley has attested to the fact that some progress is, indeed, evident."

They spent the next few minutes reviewing the 504 plan, with Charles asking for updates on how Daisy was doing socially as well as academically.

"She communicates with a few of the students," Sarah acknowledged.

"By writing, or speaking?" Charles asked.

"Both," she allowed, her lips pursed. "In fact, she seems to speak to quite a few people now, from what I can see, albeit in such a quiet whisper. She does not speak in my class, however. I've only observed it in the lunchroom or when she's in the hallway."

"Yes, Miss O'Brien, I am aware of that," Charles said clearly, making a note in his book. "What about in her other classes - sport, art, those areas?"

Phyllis pulled some additional forms from Daisy's folder, handing copies of them to Charles.

"These are classroom reports from her special area teachers, including the two you've mentioned - sport is the 'physical education,' one," she clarified. "They report that Daisy is a full participant, although that's not uncommon as the verbal participation is not as crucial as it is in a core academic class."

"But she's socializing with students here, too?" he clarified, scanning the reports.

"She is."

Charles sat back, shocked at his sudden inability to control his emotions. He knew Daisy had been doing well, he just wasn't prepared for _how_ well. It appeared from the reports before him, as well as from what Miss O'Brien and Mr. Molesley had said, that Daisy was making progress despite Elsie's accident. Evidently she'd not withdrawn behind the protective wall of silence; instead, she had almost completely knocked it down. He figured that was attributed to her having called the authorities to get help, but he couldn't be sure without asking her, and he wasn't even sure Daisy would be able to verbalize it at all.

And he didn't care, because she was finally getting _better._

"Mr. Carson?" Phyllis asked gently.

"Yes, sorry," he said with a trace of emotion in his voice. He didn't worry; he knew only Edith would have picked up on it, anyhow. "I'm just … well, _surprised_ by all of this."

"How so?" Edith asked.

He shook his head and looked at each member of the team in turn. "I had suspected that with all of the changes Elsie's accident has brought, with the entire experience of not only witnessing it but also having to be the one to get help, my daughter would have withdrawn completely. While we've not seen evidence of that at home, because she's _always_ spoken to me, I truly thought that school would be where we'd see this happen. However, what you've all described - with few exceptions - is the complete opposite. It appears that Daisy has almost _blossomed_."

He paused, unsure of how to phrase the next bit. He licked his lips and found himself biting down on the bottom one for a moment, shaking his head minutely as he realized it was a subconscious habit he was picking up from Elsie. He sat back a bit in his chair and tented his fingers over his stomach, then stared determinedly at the table as he continued.

"You're all aware that Daisy's mother, Alice, was killed in an automobile accident last year. I'm not sure you all know that we were separated at the time, and had been for quite a while. The separation was a huge change for Daisy, but she'd almost come to terms with how our lives were going to be different. The news of her mother's accident, however, and the experience of having to bury Alice and deal with the memories in England … well, it was too much, and so we moved here.

"It's also no secret that Elsie and I are involved in a personal relationship, and that Daisy and I have been living at her farm in order to help with her care. I half expected to come here today and learn that Daisy was relying heavily upon supports that you've provided here," he said, tapping his finger on the 504, "but it appears that is not the case."

"Well, in my class she still utilizes most of those," Sarah said primly.

He looked at her and met the challenge in her eyes.

"And why do you suppose that is, Miss O'Brien? She clearly is not struggling with your class - not even when you give her what most of us would deem as _more work_ than you seem to give the other students."

 _And there it is,_ Phyllis thought, keeping any trace of glee off of her face. _Let's see how you deal with this, Miss O'Brien._

"I beg your pardon? I am merely accommodating Daisy's disability by altering the assignments. For whatever reason she does not speak to me, and I cannot grade an oral project if she refuses to speak."

"But you're not just _altering_ the assignments, are you?" he challenged.

"And upon what are you basing that information, if you don't mind my asking?" she asked calmly. "Perhaps Daisy has miscommunicated something."

His eyes flickered. Edith saw it and barely managed to hold back her smirk; she knew her Uncle Charlie had just triumphed over the spiteful teacher seated across from him.

"Because, Miss O'Brien," he said calmly, "Daisy worked on that project with Marigold - at my house, at my kitchen counter."

Sarah raised an eyebrow at his possessive description of Elsie's home and he felt himself blush a bit, realizing his error but not willing to address it.

"The girls compared notes, you see," he continued. "Marigold had four components to her project, while Daisy had five. Marigold's involved less in-depth exploration of the main character in the novel she'd chosen, and I allowed that without question because Daisy is reading far above her grade level and is capable of examining the protagonist of a novel she's reading in great detail for a child her age. _However,_ Miss O'Brien, you assigned Daisy a completely different task as her 'step five,' something far above and beyond the scope of the assignment the rest of the class received. From what I understand here," he said, pushing the 504 across the table toward her, "that is not allowed. So it's no wonder to me that my daughter - who has made such an enormous amount of progress in all other areas - is not speaking to you. I have always demanded that Daisy respect her elders, Miss O'Brien, and her teachers in particular. But when she is being treated unfairly, when she is being _disrespected_ and _punished_ because of her disability - well, _then_ we have a problem."

 _Bravo!_ Phyllis thought, sitting back in her chair and catching Joseph's look of happy surprise. _Well done, Charles!_

"Sarah?" Edith asked quietly. "Are you asking Daisy to do more work because you're upset she's not _speaking_ in your class when she's speaking in the others?"

"Of course not," the woman said waspishly. "That's ridiculous. If Mr. Carson feels that Daisy isn't being held to the same standards as the other students, then I'm happy to have that conversation with him at another time. Daisy is a very intelligent girl, and I was merely attempting to challenge her in nonverbal ways given her reluctance to participate in my class."

"Good," Edith said, turning back to Charles. "I leave it to you and Miss O'Brien to set up a follow-up meeting, if necessary, in two weeks. For now, I think we should get Daisy down here to go over the missing assignments. Miss O'Brien can remain with us here for that. Mr. Molesley, I think we're all set with you for the time being."

"Sounds good," Joseph said, standing as he gathered his materials. He extended his hand to Charles once again, and they shook firmly.

"It's been a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Molesley," Charles said honestly. "I owe you a debt of gratitude for your willingness to work patiently and consistently with Daisy, and her progress is reflective of that."

Joseph seemed almost uncomfortable with the compliment, but smiled softly.

"Your daughter is a good girl, Mr. Carson. She's bright, and she truly cares about her grades. She's also compassionate and seems to keep watch over others in the class. Whatever issues she continues to struggle with, please know that we all see _those_ things every day."

Charles was speechless, merely nodding his thanks before watching the teacher head out the door.

As he took his seat again, Charles saw Edith pick up the phone and call down to the art room.

"Mr. Bricker? Could you send Daisy up to the Guidance office, please? … Yes, she should bring her things with her. … Thank you."

She hung up and turned back to the group. "She's on her way."

Charles took his time looking through his notes and then pulled up Daisy's gradebook app on his phone, silently sending thanks to Elsie for showing him how to download and use it last month. He slid his finger over the screen and opened it to Miss O'Brien's English class page … and waited.

Two minutes later, Daisy came into the office. She smiled shyly at everyone and gave Charles a hug and a kiss on the cheek, much to his pleasure.

"Hi, Papa," she said softly, and he smiled brilliantly at her.

"Hello, stranger," he teased, pulling out the chair beside himself for her to sit in.

"That's the first time I've really heard your voice, Daisy," Sarah said quietly.

Daisy just looked at her - not disrespectfully, but not smiling, either, Charles noticed.

"Daisy, your father asked that you come to discuss some missing assignments you have in Miss O'Brien's class," Phyllis said.

Daisy looked at her father, her brow furrowed. "There's only one," she whispered.

He showed her the app and pointed. "No, it says here you've not turned in the book report project you did last week when Marigold came over," he said.

Daisy looked straight at Sarah O'Brien. "I shared that last week," she said softly, but insistently.

"Evidently not," Sarah replied, "as I do not have it."

Daisy sat back, clearly confused.

"Daisy?" Phyllis asked. "Do you want to use my computer and sign into your Google account, and we can see what happened?"

Daisy nodded, and Phyllis passed the laptop down. Everyone waited as Daisy got to the right page, looked in her homework agenda for her password, and typed it in.

She clicked on the correct assignment to open it, and then she clicked the 'share' icon to see with whom she'd shared the document.

"Ohh, I typed it in wrong," she said, blushing furiously.

Sarah got up from her seat and moved over to see the laptop, where Daisy pointed to the email she'd typed in - incorrectly, apparently, as she'd reversed the 'ie' in 'O'Brien' to an 'ei.'

"So it's a day late, then," Sarah said, "which won't affect you too much as long as you share it now, properly."

Charles saw the protest on Daisy's face and shut her down immediately. "Thank you, Miss O'Brien," he said. "It _is_ late, as Daisy wasn't paying attention and it is _her_ fault that you did not receive the assignment. I guarantee that won't happen again."

Daisy shot him an angry look, which he quelled with one raised eyebrow as Edith and Phyllis looked on silently. She huffed and retyped the teacher's email in properly, and clicked 'done.'

"There," she said.

"And this other thing?" Charles pressed.

"It's here," Daisy said, pulling it from her binder. "I finished it this morning." She looked up at Miss O'Brien. "I had to do _all_ the sections, so it took longer; the rest of the class only had the top half."

Sarah had the decency to look down at the table, knowing she'd been bested. "That seems fair, then, that you needed the weekend," she said quietly, reaching her hand out for the paper.

"Daisy," Phyllis ventured slowly, "we've been meeting with Miss O'Brien and Mr. Molesley today about your 504, and have worked out a few issues regarding the ways in which your assignments have been accommodated. However, it appears that you're actually speaking in most of your classes now, particularly since returning to school after the accident - is that right?" Her surprise and happiness was evident in her voice, and Daisy smiled.

"Mostly," the little girl said, looking at Phyllis. "Yes."

"And do you think you can begin to speak sometimes in my class, Daisy?" Sarah asked.

Daisy looked at her, contemplating, the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her lips.

"Maybe," she allowed. "I'll talk to Marigold, at least," she said.

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her tongue when she saw the look on Edith's face.

"That would be wonderful, Daisy, thank you," Edith said, and Daisy smiled hesitantly at her.

"Alright," Phyllis said, "I think we're done here. We're going to remove your accommodation for extended deadlines, Daisy, as your teachers are all in agreement that you're not utilizing that for the most part. That said, Miss O'Brien, I'd like to request that you _not_ mark Daisy's book report late one day - not because of the mistake with the email, but because she did, up until two minutes ago, have an accommodation for late work in her plan."

"No," Charles said firmly. "I respectfully disagree. It's a consequence which Daisy will have to live with because it had nothing to do with needing more time, but rather with carelessness on her part. I'm no drill sergeant, Miss Baxter, but I do expect Daisy to be attentive to what she's doing and I think it'll be a good lesson learned."

"As you wish," Phyllis said. "I think we're done here, although I'd like for Daisy and Mr. Carson to remain behind - I have something else I need to discuss with you privately."

Sarah stood, and bid Charles goodbye.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Miss O'Brien," he said, offering his hand as he'd risen with her. She took it hesitantly, but shook it.

"You're welcome," she said. She left the room, followed closely by Edith, who took her aside in the hall.

"You're lucky, Sarah," Edith whispered. "And don't you ever pull anything like that again."

"I've done nothing wrong," Sarah said, and turned and walked away. Edith let her go, the both of them knowing Sarah had been found out and embarrassed in front of her boss and two colleagues - and both of them knowing that it likely _wouldn't_ ever happen again.

"Daisy," Phyllis asked once she'd shut the door. "I'd like to ask you something. Why _don't_ you talk to Miss O'Brien? I mean, what's the _real_ reason?"

Daisy looked at Charles, then back at Phyllis.

"Because she doesn't like Elsie," the girl admitted.

"Sorry?" Charles asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. "What makes you say that?" _She couldn't possibly know!_

"I heard her once, a while back," Daisy said. "Something she said in the library to another teacher, about how Elsie treats me and a few of the other kids special. She said she didn't know where Elsie got off doing that," she said bluntly, and Charles couldn't help but smile.

"I daresay it's because she cares about you all," he said, reaching out to tighten Daisy's ponytail, and she smiled back at him.

"Did you tell Miss Baxter yet?" Daisy asked, and Charles shook his head.

"No, not yet. Would you like to?" he asked, and she nodded, then thought of something.

"Wait - do Uncle Robert and Auntie Cora know now?"

"Yes, I called them this morning. And Beryl knows, too, so you're all set."

Phyllis watched the interaction with a growing sense of joy, suspecting what was to come.

"We're getting married," Daisy squealed. "I mean they are, but we're all going to be a family. For real."

Phyllis beamed at the young girl. "Congratulations, Daisy. I'm so very happy for you all."

* * *

Charles had an hour and a half between the meeting and the end of the school day, so he used the time to pick up a few essentials at the grocery store and to stop by the feed store and pick up Elsie's order. As he was leaving, he was spotted by Tom Branson.

"Mr. Carson!" the younger man called.

"It's Charles, please," he said, shaking Tom's hand. "How've you been, Tom? Haven't been able to see you at the _Devil_ for a while."

"Busy!" Tom laughed. "But that's how I like it. How's Elsie doing? And don't give me any of that nonsense she has you give the others," he said seriously. "How is she _really?"_

"She's doing better," Charles reassured him. "The physical therapist came by today and I'm sure that wasn't fun; however, all in all, she's making great progress. The brace helps, although she's annoyed with it because she can't really _do_ anything."

"Ha! I bet! Elsie doesn't ever sit still, that's for sure. How many more weeks will she need it?"

"Hopefully two, maybe three. Depends on the PT, I think."

"Good. Listen, Charles, I wanted to float something by her, but as I've got you here I'll just tell _you._ I know she needs a new vehicle," he began, and Charles laughed loudly.

"Does she ever!"

"Yeah, well, I just got in a beautiful pickup at the shop. Guy up and sold it, said it wasn't for him, and I got it for a steal. It's fire-engine red, same make and model as hers but about fifteen years newer," he laughed. "It's a '13, and really low mileage. Mention it to her, would you? I think she'd love it, and she can even donate her old one as a tax write-off. I'm happy to hold it until she's back behind the wheel again."

Charles's eyebrows raised. "I shall tell her, because that sounds nearly perfect," he said. "Thank you very much. You know, Tom, she'd love to see you. Stop by the farm sometime - she's _always_ there, and a fresh face is always a welcome change from seeing mine all day long, I'm sure."

Tom smiled warmly. "I will - thank you. In the meantime, give her my best."

"Will do," Charles said, heading back to his car. "Take care."

"You, too," Tom waved.

* * *

Charles was back at school just in time to pick up Tommy and Daisy. As he pulled up and parked, he noticed Sarah O'Brien standing outside where Elsie would normally be. He chuckled at the thought of Edith having reassigned Sarah to Elsie's bus duty, and gave her a friendly wave when she looked up and noticed him. The look on her face ten minutes later - when she saw Tommy Barrow get into his car with Daisy - was absolutely priceless, and he filed it away to mention to Elsie later on.

"Daisy? Are you still angry with me, petal?" Charles asked once they were on the way.

"It wasn't fair," Daisy said firmly, and Tommy wondered what in the world she was talking about. "It was just a mistake, Papa, and you told her to punish me for it."

"Well, will you pay more attention to what you're doing in the future?"

 _Nod._

"Five points will hardly hurt you in that class. But that's not the point, Daisy, and you know it."

"Whatever," she said, and Charles grumbled a warning. Daisy sighed. "I'm sorry, that was rude."

"Indeed." He shot her a look in the rear-mirror, effectively ending the discussion.

When they arrived back at the house Charles noticed Anna's car in the drive.

"Oh, good," he said to the kids. "Anna's already here. You can both go and see her to find out where she needs help. Then you should have time for homework before dinner."

"Am I staying that late?" Tommy enquired, and Charles nodded.

"Yes, I think Elsie worked that out with your mother," he said, giving the boy a small smile.

Tommy smiled back, then remembered there were bags in the car from the store.

"Mr. Carson, would you like some help with the things from the store?" Tommy asked, pointing to the back of the car.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten about those," he admitted. "Yes, thanks, Tommy. Daisy - you go and tell Anna that Tommy will be down shortly."

"Okay," she said, bounding off toward the barn.

Tommy ran his and Daisy's backpacks to the front step and dropped them by the door, returning swiftly to the car to help Charles unload the feed bags.

"They're heavy," Charles warned, and Tommy just looked at him. He bent down and lifted one, barely struggling as he carried it down toward the barn.

"Where do they go?" he called, and Anna poked her head around the corner.

"Hi Tommy! Just in here," she said quickly, pointing. "Thanks!"

Tommy dropped the bag and brushed his hands off on his jeans. "No problem," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

He helped Charles unload the groceries and carry them into the house.

"Just place those on the counter, Charlie," Elsie's voice came from the bedroom.

"Tommy's here with me," he called.

Elsie came down the hall with a huge smile on her face. "Tommy! Oh, is it good to see you," she said, the relief evident in her voice.

"Hey, Ms. Hughes, how are you?" he asked, genuinely concerned about her once he took in her appearance. "You look … well, not yourself," he added with a smirk, and she laughed.

"Better every day but, yeah, it's been a real experience," she admitted. "Tommy … when you're here and not at school, how about you just call me Elsie?"

Tommy grinned and, Elsie noted interestingly, blushed a bit. "Alright, then," he said softly, and she nodded.

Charles came in then with the last of the groceries. "All set?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Carson," Tommy said. "I'll head on out now, if that's it?"

"Yes, thanks very much," Charles said, and Tommy made his way to the front door. He saw the backpacks on the front step and brought them into the living room … just in time to see Mr. Carson lean forward and plant a sweet kiss on Elsie's lips.

"Hello, love," Charles said, caressing her face. "How did you feel today?"

"Like hell, until you got here with Tommy," she said honestly. "I'm _so_ happy to see him."

Tommy blushed furiously and silently made his way out the door. He couldn't help but feel as though he'd been intruding on something intensely personal, and yet his heart soared at hearing how happy Ms. Hughes - _Elsie,_ he told himself with a laugh - was to see him.

He marched down to the barn to meet with Anna, determined to work as hard as he possibly could to help Elsie out. He felt almost like he'd made new friends in her and Mr. Carson, and he didn't want to do anything at all to foul it up.

Daisy met him halfway on the path.

"Come on, then! Anna's waiting," she said.

"Daisy? What was that business in the car about? Surely you aren't in trouble?"

She looked at Tommy. "Nosey, aren't you?" she said.

"Sometimes," he admitted, raising his eyebrows. "So? Are you going to tell me?"

Daisy huffed. "I messed up sending something to Miss O'Brien on Google. Spelled her name wrong. And Papa decided I should be marked late because she didn't get it in time," she explained, rolling her eyes.

Tommy just stared at her. "You're joking, right?"

"No! See? It's ridiculous!" she ranted.

"No, Daisy," he said, shaking his head. "That's not what I meant."

"Huh?"

"Daisy," Tommy said, looking at her. "If that's the worst thing that happened to you today, I'd say you're alright. Your father … he's a nice man, you know."

Daisy was ashamed of herself then, remembering how kids talk about Tommy at school and now Elsie had said things weren't always easy for him.

"I know," she said quietly. "But I really hate Miss O'Brien."

Tommy laughed. "Yeah, well, join the club. She's something else … I don't blame you there one bit! But go easy on your father, hm?"

She nodded. "I will. C'mon, Anna's waiting, and I think you're helping me muck out stalls today."

"Fantastic," Tommy said, with only a slight trace sarcasm; truth be told, though, he craved the work and was interested in seeing how the place was run.

"Let's go, then!"

* * *

 _ **A little review would be lovely if you have the time. Next up: More P/T, and then Spring and Easter are on the way! x  
**_


	35. Friends and Lovers

**A/N: Thanks to all of you for the amazing reblogs, reviews, comments, and suggestions (one of which I have seriously taken to heart and will be using in a future chapter)!**

 **Here we see a glimpse into more PT, a dinner amongst friends new and old, and plans for the future. My thanks to brenna-louise for beta services rendered, including catching a bit of Scottish history that I didn't know anything about (and which, because of her keen eye, has been eliminated from the story so I don't look like a fool).**

 **Stay tuned, because Ch 36 is already penned and almost ready to go, and you'll REALLY like that one. xx**

 **Happy (?) Downton Day - sigh.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Thursday, March 26, 2015**_

"Son of a _bitch!"_

Charles winced as he sat reading the morning paper, the sound of Elsie's cursing once again sounding from the bottom of the stairs.

 _And to think we've another week of this!_

"Suck it up, buttercup," came Gladys's voice, and Charles placed his head in his hands and took a deep breath.

 _They're going to kill each other, I know it._

Less than a minute later, though, Elsie and her cane - lovingly decorated by Daisy with horse-print ribbon - crested the stop of the staircase. She continued forward to the counter, where Charles placed a rewarding kiss to her damp forehead.

"Six more days," he whispered, but Elsie just glared at him.

"Let's go! Back down now!" Gladys called from the bottom of the stairs.

"I swear to God I'm going to beat her with this fucking cane," Elsie grumbled, and Charles laughed softly.

"Please don't, because I'd have a hell of a time explaining that to the agency," he teased.

"Doubtful - they obviously have all met her before," Elsie muttered, heading back to the stairs. She turned around and looked at him hopefully. "How about you just give me a little push?" she suggested, tilting her head toward the staircase, but he just shook his head.

"You _are_ the impossible patient; do you know that?" he asked.

She nodded. "I do, actually." _Deep breaths, Elsie._ "Six days."

"Six days of _joy!"_ cackled Gladys from the bottom of the stairs. "Now get your nursing butt back down here, or you'll not even be rid of me then!"

* * *

"Isobel's here!" Daisy squealed, almost being toppled over by Max as he came barreling down the hallway at the sound of the car.

Charles held onto Max's collar as Daisy let Isobel in. Isobel greeted her, placing a kiss to her cheek as Charles ordered Max to go out and run around a bit.

"Charles, hello," she said. "Thank you for having me over this evening. I can't believe it's already time to head back - I feel as though I just got here."

"I know, although after today I feel as though Elsie's been down and out forever," he muttered, and she smiled.

"PT going that well, is it?"

Daisy laughed, and Isobel gave her and Charles a curious look.

"She _hates_ it," Daisy said in a loud whisper. _"Hates. It."_

"You could say that," Charles smirked. "Dr. Clarkson is in with her now, checking on her progress," he added, waving in the general direction of the bedroom. "Kind of him to not make her stop by his office for her check-up." He looked to see that Daisy was occupied watching Max from her spot by the door and added in a whisper, "I will say this: after the day she's had, Elsie _really_ needs a glass of wine. Or three."

But Isobel was still focused on the rest of what he'd said, the color having left her face. "Dr. Clarkson is here _now?"_ she whispered, and Charles nodded, curious.

"He is … Surely Elsie told you he would be?"

"Um, _no,_ she most certainly did not." Isobel licked her lips and swallowed as she briefly contemplated running out the back door.

Charles shook his head and rolled his eyes at Elsie's absolute cunning. _She is truly something else!_ "Daisy, can you go check on Max? Maybe even walk him a bit so he doesn't bother us during dinner?"

"Okay," she said, running off to get her shoes.

Charles turned back to Isobel. "Wine?"

"Please," she nodded. "I think _I'm_ going to need it as much as Elsie."

As though he'd heard her arrive ( _and maybe he did,_ Charles thought), Dr. Clarkson took that precise moment to come down the hallway.

"Isobel!" he said, surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Charles - can you help me for a moment?" Elsie called from down the hall.

Isobel sent Charles a panicked look, but he realized he had no choice but to abandon her with Richard.

"Of course, love," he replied, just before he disappeared into the bedroom.

Isobel watched him leave and turned her gaze toward Richard, not wanting to be rude and yet fearful of the conversation that was about to ensue. They'd had dinner the previous week - a glorious evening at the restaurant of the Misty Cove Seaside followed by dancing in the hotel lounge, and Isobel had _almost_ been swept off her feet; if she'd have allowed it, she'd have been taken in completely by his kind words, his soft smile, warm hand on her back, and his promise of things that could be. But she hadn't allowed it because she thought she'd never _see_ the man again, and she'd let him go with a soft kiss and a spoken wish that things could have been different.

And now, here they stood, in Elsie's kitchen, Isobel clutching a glass of wine as Richard stared her down. And so things suddenly _were_ different - of course they were - because this was a second chance.

"Elsie so kindly invited me to dinner," she said stupidly, a huge smile plastered on her face. "I mean, that's why I'm here. That is, I didn't realize _you'd_ be here." _Stop talking, foolish woman!_

"Oh," he said, taken aback and trying to fight the flush that he could feel appearing on his cheeks as his mind whirred with excitement and hope. "Well, it appears we'll be dining together once again," he added, stepping forward and brushing her unoccupied fingers with his. "She's just invited _me_ to stay as well."

Isobel's jaw dropped, and then she burst into laughter. "Oh, Richard, I do believe we're being played by our little patient!"

His eyes smoldered, and she was taken aback a bit as he clasped her hand firmly in his. "You can't possibly think I mind, Isobel. You know where I stand."

Isobel pursed her lips and looked into her wine glass. "Richard, I told you …"

"I know what you said," he insisted, "but you know how I feel _._ "

"I do," she said simply, pulling her hand out of his. "Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Why not? I'm officially off duty as of -" He glanced at the clock. "- four minutes ago." He watched as she poured for him, marveling at the grace with which she moved and the fact that her hands were devoid of any trembling despite how nervous he knew her to be in that moment.

 _Surgeon's hands,_ he thought with an inward smile.

"Here you are," Isobel said, and Richard took the glass from her, deftly avoiding her fingers since he heard Charles and Elsie coming back down the hall.

"I'm sorry about that," Elsie said. "I was having a bit of trouble getting my shirt unstuck from … ah, never mind," she finished, seeing the discomfort in Isobel's eyes and the determined look in Richard's and hearing Daisy and Max come back in.

"He's all set," Daisy announced. "May I go and read until dinner, Papa?"

"Of course," he said, depositing a kiss to her head. "Off you go."

Isobel looked after her fondly. "She's doing so well," she said to Elsie, who nodded.

"Alright," Charles said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them, "you all need to get settled in the sunroom with those drinks. I'll go check on dinner and meet you in there in a moment." He gave Elsie a pointed look and a sweet kiss and made a little turning and pointing motion with his fingers.

 _Go on, run along, then,_ it said. _You created this uncomfortable mess; you go and deal with it!_

She just smiled at him and shook her head, rather happy indeed for the 'mess' she'd created. Before the night ended, she hoped to have Isobel and Richard leaving her house with some sort of understanding. She knew they'd gone to dinner last week - Richard had been forthcoming with details when Elsie asked. She was a matchmaker at heart, and she felt he just needed one more evening with Isobel in order to win the woman over. A kiss at the end of their last date, followed by a wish for things to be different, had sounded very promising to Elsie, indeed.

 _Let's hope,_ she thought as she led them into the sunroom.

"Don't even think about sitting on that loveseat, Elsie," Richard cautioned, and then he flushed a bit as he realized how that must have sounded to Isobel.

But he needed have worried, because Isobel only backed him up. "Too soft," she nodded, "and no support."

"I know, I know," Elsie said, heading to the stiff chair in the corner and sitting gently on the cushion she'd placed on it last week. "I don't miss the brace, but it _was_ nice sitting wherever I pleased."

"Slow and steady," Isobel reminded her, taking the end of the loveseat closest to Elsie. She placed her wineglass on the end table and tried to ignore the fact that Richard had plopped himself more to the center of the loveseat as opposed to directly at the other end. "You've been out of the brace for what, one day?"

"Yes. I have six days more of the PT, which is absolute hell but is clearly working, and I promise to be good about keeping it up," Elsie said. "That Denker woman, though …"

"She's the best," Richard said, "but, yes she's a bit … well, let's just say we don't always see eye-to-eye. But phenomenal at what she does? Absolutely. She's the reason you're not in that brace anymore, you do realize. You could have had it at least another week."

Elsie huffed. "I do," she acknowledged grudgingly. "And I know I'm a horrible patient -"

"Which I remind her of on a daily basis," Charles said, coming down the stairs from the dining room into the roomful of gentle laughter.

"That he does!" Elsie said, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it. He sat in the chair directly beside hers and stretched out his legs on the ottoman.

"Dinner is almost ready."

"Haven't you become quite the domestic servant?" Isobel teased.

"Oh, yes - he does all the cooking, the cleaning, the washing. I'm going to get used to this," Elsie teased.

"Oh?" Richard said, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Isobel, you didn't say anything?" Elsie asked. "My, my, you _do_ know how to keep a secret. But it's not a secret any longer." She looked at Richard and smiled brightly. "We're getting married."

"Ah, congratulations!" he said enthusiastically, and Elsie and Charles could see he truly meant it. "That's such wonderful news. When?"

"August, most likely," Charles said. "School holiday - less rain, more time to prepare."

"I absolutely insist on being able to dance at my own wedding, too," Elsie added, squeezing Charles's fingers, "and so it gives me the longest period of recovery before I head back to school in the fall."

"Autumn," Charles corrected playfully, and Isobel and Richard watched with an amused glance as their friends held some sort of secret conversation.

"Yes, autumn," Elsie replied quietly, the memory playing in her mind as she smiled sweetly at him and bit down gently on her bottom lip. "I stand corrected."

Just then, the oven beeped.

"Here we go!" Charles said, getting up and lending a hand to Elsie to help her out of her chair.

But she refused. "No, you go and get that roast out before it's overdone. I've got to get used to this anyhow," she insisted.

Under the watchful eyes of two doctors, Elsie showed off her remarkable skill at rising from her own chair. "I'm not a two-year-old; I can manage to get out of a chair," she said sarcastically, but they just laughed at her.

"Well, now, we wouldn't want to be sued if you fell," Isobel joked, and Richard sniggered.

"Certainly not!" he said. "That would muddy up my retirement plans for sure!"

Elsie turned abruptly. "Retirement?" she asked, stunned. "But you _love_ your job!"

"Yes, well … sometimes things change," he said evasively.

Elsie stole a glance at Isobel, whom she noticed looked very guilty … and also, perhaps, a little bit pleased.

 _Well, well,_ Elsie thought as she leaned on her cane and climbed the few steps to the dining room, _maybe this won't be as hard as I thought._

* * *

The friends were relaxing by the fire in the living room, chatting about anything and everything and discovering that they all had a great deal in common. Daisy had gone to bed an hour previous, bored to tears by the adult conversation and well aware that it was a school night. Isobel and Charles had been entertained by Elsie and Richard telling stories of their childhoods in Scotland; it appeared they'd grown up about fifteen kilometres from one another and, as they are roughly the same age, they had similar experiences to recount. Charles often wondered how frequently Elsie thought back on her childhood and he figured it wasn't much, but reminiscing with a fellow Scot did seem to have brought a good deal of it back, and he noticed she was a bit quieter after the conversation had turned to other things: cricket and other sport, movies and television, music, and more.

"I really need to be going," Isobel said, stifling a yawn.

"As do I," Richard said. "Thank you, Elsie, for asking me to stay. It was so kind of you, and I don't seem to get out much at all," he said sheepishly.

"Well, you're always welcome here - with or without a professional need to be visiting," she teased warmly.

"Isobel, I really can't thank you enough," Charles said, rising to envelop her in a hug. "You have been more help that you even realize."

"Oh, nonsense, you'd have managed without me just fine," she said.

"Well, _I_ wouldn't have!" Elsie moved over to where they were standing and offered her own hug before clasping Isobel's hand. "You will return for the wedding, won't you?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me from it," she assured them. "Just send me the date and I'll make it happen."

Charles and Richard bid their goodbyes to one another, with a promise from the doctor to see Elsie in his office in two more weeks, and a vow from her to keep up the PT even after Gladys was finished with her allotted hours.

As Richard and Isobel were walking to their cars, her attention was caught by something in the distance. She veered off a bit toward the pond, and Richard followed wordlessly.

As she approached, she gasped softly and stopped in her tracks, holding a hand out to stop Richard from moving beyond her. Instead of bumping into her hand, however, he took it lightly in his and followed her gaze, and whispered a soft, "Ohh."

Off in the distance, on the other side of the pond, a rustling could be heard in the leaves and, just as he'd adjusted his eyesight to the darkness, he spotted an adolescent moose walking out of the brush. He was astonished by the size of the thing, never having seen one in real life.

"The mother will be nearby," Isobel whispered. "Don't go any closer, and don't make any loud noises. I've never seen one before, but I've heard they can charge if startled." Richard just nodded, and squeezed her hand.

They stood about five minutes watching the animal before seeing it retreat back into the woods of the neighbors' property. Richard hazarded a glance up to the sky then, noting the fullness of the moon and the way its beams reflected off the pond. He lifted Isobel's hand to his lips and kissed it, offering no words but an enormous amount of promise in that one simple gesture.

She turned to face him, and closed her eyes as he leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers.

"Did you mean it, what you said earlier? About retirement?" she whispered.

"I did," he said, backing up to look her in the eyes. "I've spent my entire life working, and have managed to save a fair amount. I can easily sell my practice, they don't usually need me at the hospital, and I think it safe to say that I've recently become more aware of what life has to offer - that it can be so much more than work and rest." He raised his hand to her chin and drew her in for a soft kiss, noting with happiness that she didn't even attempt to pull back.

Isobel knew that she was completely and utterly smitten. She couldn't possibly ignore what she was feeling, and yet she couldn't ignore the very real fact that, in eleven and a half hours, she'd be on a plane headed back to London. She had resolved to make a clean break when she'd last seen Richard but, the deeper their kiss became, the faster she felt that resolve crumble to the ground.

When they broke apart, Richard noticed that her eyes had filled with tears. He brushed them away, only to have more fall in their place. "Oh, Isobel," he whispered. "I know that you can't stay, but we _need_ to work something out. I refuse to just let you go."

She nodded and swallowed, trying to rein in her emotion enough for an intelligent conversation. "I'm freezing," she said, and he chuckled.

"Come on, then." He wrapped his arm around her and led her back to the cars, and they both got in his. He started the engine and got the heat going, thinking that it was a good thing they were now separated by the gear shift and center console.

"When?" she asked.

He thought about it for a moment. "Two months, maybe three," he said honestly. "I'll list the business next week if I can, and then we can figure it out from there."

"I'll be back by then, for the wedding," she said. "And who knows? Maybe it is time for me to consider retirement as well."

He took her hand again and shook his head. "No, you're not ready - at least, it doesn't seem that you are." He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "But I'd be willing to move. I'd keep my house, rent it out, and could get a flat in London, see how things go?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. "You'd do that? Seriously?"

"I would. Isobel … I don't mean to frighten you, I truly don't. But I feel we have something here, something bright and lovely that has the potential to be wonderful … _if_ you allow it. And I don't mean to drag you away from your life in England, because you have so many more memories at home than I have here. It makes sense for me to move; I can afford it, I have no emotional ties to the area, and I _want_ to do this. And, if it doesn't turn into anything more, if you decide it's not what you want, then I can always come back."

"I don't see that happening," she admitted, shaking her head and smiling softly.

He leaned over and kissed her sweetly. "Good."

"I need to get into my own car," she laughed. "I do need _some_ sleep before tomorrow."

"Can I see you off? In the morning, I mean? Meet you at the rental booth and stay with you until you leave?"

She smiled brightly at him, tilting her head as she contemplated this wonderful man before her that she'd _almost_ let slip away completely.

"I'd like that," she said. "Ten o'clock?"

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

Charles and Elsie looked through the bay window as Isobel finally got into her own car and their two friends drove off. Elsie leaned back against his chest and sighed happily.

"His windows aren't steamed up," Charles joked, and she swatted playfully at his arms, which were curled around her waist.

"Shush, you," she admonished. "They're not teenagers."

"Neither are we," he whispered, leaning down to kiss her neck.

"Stop," she murmured, not wanting to wake Daisy. "We can't - not tonight. I'm ridiculously achy and really just want to go to bed."

"I know," he said. "But I couldn't help it. Your lovely neck was _right there."_

Elsie turned to face him, shaking her head and smiling. "You daft man," she chided. "What in the world you see in me now, barely able to move about or do a damned thing, is beyond me."

But his face took on a serious look, his eyebrows raised as he looked at her. "I see my future, you crazy woman - and it's _beautiful."_

They peeked in on Daisy and Charles retrieved Fred from where he'd fallen on the floor, tucking him back in next to her before kissing her forehead. Elsie stood in the doorway, watching, her heart surging at the sweetness of what she was seeing.

"What?" he whispered, taking her hand as they made their way down the hall. "You're looking at me strangely."

"You," she said. "And Daisy. You're the best father that ever lived, surely you realize that?"

He chuckled. "I try," he said. "I certainly had a model for how _not_ to do it."

"Yeah …"

They undressed slowly and readied for bed, Elsie choosing a soft, newer nightgown that Charles had bought her the previous week.

"I do love it," he said approvingly, brushing his fingers over the soft cotton at the hem as he kissed her.

"Mm," she hummed into his lips, "me, too. Thank you."

"My pleasure."

Elsie climbed in beside him and he adjusted her pillows for her.

"All set?"

"I am," she nodded. "Charlie? I've been thinking … Easter is fast approaching."

"So it is," he agreed, scooting down in the bed and resting his head on her chest, his arm around her waist. "This okay?" he asked.

"Perfect," she said, running her fingers through his grey and silver locks. "I'd like to have a dinner here, for our friends. Beryl and her family, perhaps Anna and John, John's mum, Edith and Bertie with Marigold." She took a breath. "Mary, if you wanted her, although I'd prefer not to have Richard. But he is family, I suppose –"

"No," Charles said swiftly. "Besides, I think they have something for the staff, if I remember correctly."

"Really?"

"Yes," he nodded. "But do you think you'll be up for that, Els?"

"I do, if you'll be able to manage most of the lifting and bending - the ham in and out of the oven, the potatoes and so forth. But yes, I really do. I feel like the light is finally at the end of the tunnel, and I'd love to go to church and then just come home and be surrounded by our friends and family."

"We'll have to get an extra table," he mused. "I can move the sofa a bit, we can put two tables end-to-end, if I get matching tablecloths … I think you have enough dishes that match, yes? Service for twelve or something like it?"

"I do," she chuckled, "but it doesn't all have to match, Charles."

"It does," he argued. "But, wait a moment … ah, we'd be thirteen altogether."

"Well, what if the children have a different china pattern, would that appease your sensibilities?" she teased. "White for the children - who already won't match the adults because they won't require stemware," she added, trying not to chuckle.

He lifted his head and scowled at her. "You're mocking me!"

"I am!" she laughed. "Charles, it's Easter dinner, not a meal for the bloody Queen of England! It's about the spirit of the day, and about being surrounded by family and friends. It's not about the perfectly-set table!"

"I like things done properly," he grumbled, putting his head back on her chest. "But I suppose if the children are all at one table and the adults at the other, then I can get it all to match nicely enough … perhaps do their napkins different, too, and of course the cups could be springtime colors …"

Elsie erupted in peals of laughter, and Charles huffed.

"Oh, my God, I just adore you, do you know that?" she said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes as she looked at him. "You handle all of that, yes, do up the tables however you want - measure the distance between all the frigging pieces of flatware if you want, I don't even care. But yes, if you're willing, I would like to invite everyone." She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it soundly. "Thank you!"

"This is what I have to look forward to, then? Big holiday dinners here with friends and family squeezed into the house? Us preparing the meals and fussing over the table?"

"It is," she said. "I hope that's alright."

He scooted up and kissed her lovingly. "It's perfect," he said with a sigh, wrapping himself around her.

"But we're registering for more dishes," he added, and she laughed as she squeezed him in a tight hug.

"Alright," she agreed. "I'll even let you pick the pattern."

"You'd better believe it," he mumbled.

* * *

 **Still not ashamed to ask for a teensy review if you feel so inclined. x**


	36. I'll Take Care of You

**Here we go! All Chelsie, and I hope I didn't promote it so much that it fails to live up to expectations. Shout-out to deeedeee, who has a special nod in this chapter if she knows where to look (which, by now, she should, because third time's a charm, girl!).**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise for the beta, and to all of you for the love. The next chapter will be rather long, so it'll be a few days for me to get it squared away. And pardon any typos herein, because I changed some things after Brenna looked at it.  
**

 **The song lyrics for this chapter are from a lovely old song by Whitney Houston and Jermaine Jackson entitled "If You Say My Eyes Are Beautiful." It's on my Spotify playlist for this fic. It is such a lovely song, and I really encourage you to listen to it either on YouTube or Spotify before reading this chapter … it speaks so much to the love I've been trying to convey here. If you're like me, you may not have heard it in about twenty-five years. :)**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _I could hold you close forever_**

 ** _And never let you go,_**

 ** _If you say my eyes are beautiful_**

 ** _It's because I just love you so._**

 ** _Now my heart is an open door,_**

 ** _Won't you come inside for more?_**

 ** _You give love so sweetly now,_**

 ** _Take my love, take me completely now._**

 ** _If you say my eyes are beautiful_**

 ** _It's because they're looking at you._**

 ** _Saturday, April 4, 2105_**

Charles had just dropped Daisy off at Edith's for an Easter Eve sleepover, and he smiled as he remembered how excited his little girl had been to get there. She knew that Bertie had a huge Easter egg hunt planned for the girls in the morning, and she was committed to finding _more_ eggs than Marigold would. Charles had spent a lovely day with his girl: they'd had lunch at _The Cheeky Devil,_ where they'd had a chance to visit with Beryl and even meet Ethel's little boy, Charlie, who stopped by with Andy to pick Ethel up from her morning shift, and then they'd spent a leisurely afternoon at the mall picking up a few things she needed for school and something small for supper – and managed to avoid the dreaded _Justice_ store, for which Charles was eternally grateful.

But things hadn't been all happy in Daisy's little mind and, when Charles had asked her about it, she'd confessed that she was worried the Easter Bunny _might_ not realize she was away. Charles reassured her that he would, in fact, find her (having taken care of that last week in a clandestine meeting with Bertie when the girls were in school). He felt a small pang in his heart at the realization that, given she'd be nine next month and in fourth grade in the fall, this may well be the last time the Easter Bunny would need to visit her. He did regret that she'd not be spending tomorrow morning with him but took solace in the fact that they'd had a wonderful Christmas morning last December; in addition, Daisy was becoming more and more independent every day, the desire to sleep over at Edith and Bertie's house only one small indicator of that.

And so, as Charles bid his daughter goodbye and pulled away from the Pelhams' home, he turned his thoughts to spending a quiet evening with the lovely woman who was awaiting his return.

As Charles pulled into the driveway and parked, he took note of the appearance of Elsie's house. The setting sun was reflected off of the water in the pond, the surface now completely thawed after a long, cold winter, and he smiled as he noticed one of the ducks dive under to capture its dinner. Making his way up the path to the front door he took in a deep breath of springtime: fragrant flowers coming into bloom, a gentle whiff of the nearby ocean, and the newly-trimmed grass. He could easily imagine living here for the rest of his days, and he laughed when he realized how far this scene was from the life he'd left behind in England.

 _Guess you didn't know yourself as well as you thought you did, old man._

He reached out and opened the door, and Max came bounding out.

"Hi there," Charles said, bending down to scratch Max behind the ears. "You need a _bath,_ my friend – you smell like you were in the pond earlier," he said playfully, and Max let out a playful bark. He ran to get his favorite ball and returned to drop it at Charles's feet.

"Okay, here you go," Charles said, throwing the ball down the drive and laughing as Max flew after it, only to bring it back, run inside, curl up on his bed, and promptly settle in for a nap.

"One toss and you're tired? You _must_ have been busy today," Charles laughed.

"He was!" Elsie's voice called to him from down by the bedroom, and Charles took off his jacket and shoes and headed off to find her.

Three steps from the bedroom he came to a halt, his eyes taking in the flickering light before him. He proceeded slowly after a few seconds. "Elsie?" he asked tentatively, and he heard her giggle.

 _Giggle?_

When he entered the room he saw the reason for the flickering light: candles, _everywhere._ There were tea lights in small jars all over the bureau, two larger candles on the nightstand, and votives tucked in here and there on the shelves.

"Hi there," came her soft voice, the brogue he'd come to love somehow sounding thicker tonight. He turned in the direction of the bathroom … and found himself breathless at the sight of his fiancée, standing in a rather revealing ( _and new,_ he thought, _definitely not seen **that** before_) negligée, dark blue in color to match her eyes, and cut low in front and high above the knee. She was leaning against the doorjamb, her arms crossed underneath her bosom, and a playful look on her face. "I wondered when you'd be back," she said. "You were gone quite a while."

He was speechless – absolutely, positively speechless. He swallowed, twice, but still couldn't manage any words at all.

"Charlie?" Elsie asked, a bit concerned now. _Oh my God, is he unhappy? Perhaps he thinks this is ridiculous – we aren't teenagers, and …_

His swift movements quelled her worries instantly as he crossed the room and wrapped an arm around her, ever cognizant that she was not 100% healed but well aware by the scene before him that she finally felt she was healed _enough_. He cupped her cheek in his other hand and placed a loving kiss to her lips, the tips of his fingers buried in her hair and pressed gently against the back of her head.

"I wasn't sure if you thought me silly," she admitted when they broke apart, and she laughed as his eyes widened. "Well, you didn't _say_ anything," she added.

" _Silly?"_ he finally managed to choke out. "Are you joking, woman?" His voice rumbled in his chest and she could feel it under her palms, which were currently flat on his chest.

"No," she said, slipping her fingers underneath his collar as she nibbled her lip. "Not at all. I _was_ a bit worried."

"Elsie," he said, his eyebrows raised as he gently squeezed her shoulders with his hands, "I have been waiting _weeks_ for this night."

She laughed softly and nodded. "Me, too. Just … be careful, and … well, you know."

"We have our instructions, yes, I know," he said. "And I promise to be so very, very gentle with you," he added, sliding a finger underneath the strap of the nightie. "And how, may I ask, did you manage to procure _this_ lovely little number?" he added in a whisper. "Because I know you did not drive anywhere to get it, and no packages have come in the mail."

Elsie laughed softly but shook her head. "A _true_ woman of mystery never gives up her secrets, Mr. Carson."

"I see. Well, more's the pity." He tugged at the tied strap until it fell off her shoulder, where he placed faint kisses to the skin that had been underneath it.

"You may be the death of me," she whispered, her head tilting to the side so that his lips could travel from her shoulder to her collarbone, up her neck, and to that sweet spot just below her ear that he knew was extra sensitive; he spent quite a bit of time _there_ before he allowed his tongue to roam again.

"Never," he breathed.

"Wait," she said, backing away just a bit. "You have _way_ too many articles of clothing on, dear. Let's see what we can do about that."

"As you wish," he replied, pulling his sweater off in one fluid motion and tossing it on the floor. He made to undo the buttons of the shirt he had on underneath the sweater, but she placed her soft hands over his fingers and stopped him.

"No, allow me." She pushed gently on his shoulders until he backed up against the bed and sat, and she stepped between his knees and slowly undid each button, running her fingernails over the skin that each unbuttoning revealed as his head tilted back and he tried to control his breathing. He felt the surge of blood in his veins (and in other areas) and experienced a brief moment of panic at the thought of having to sit still for much longer.

"Heart condition, remember," he mumbled at one point.

"Mm-hm." She felt his pulse underneath her fingertips and paused there for a moment, assessing. "Well, I'm a nurse, in case you didn't know, and you feel _more_ than fine to me," she purred.

"I do? Mm, that's good. Um, Els? Finish with the damned shirt already."

She laughed softly as she undid the last button and slid her fingers under the fabric, pushing it off of his body and tossing it somewhere near where the sweater had landed; as she did so, she moved her thigh forward, bumping into him and smiling as he let out a loud gasp.

"Oops," she said, her eyebrows high in her merriment.

"Two can play at that game," he growled, reaching out with his fingers – which, up to that point, had been gripping the edge of the mattress – to caress the backs of her thighs. He allowed his hands to wander up and cup her bottom, and he realized with a start that she had nothing on underneath the nightie. "Oh, you teasing little minx," he said, and she chuckled seductively.

"I didn't want to bend over to put them on," she murmured, placing her hands on his shoulders and bending her head to kiss his forehead. "Wanted to be sure I didn't _harm_ myself in any way at all. I wanted to be sure I was in _excellent_ shape for when you got home," she added. She trailed a fingertip down his jawline, only to have him turn his head quickly and capture it in one swift move. "You still have too much on," she reminded him, pushing her leg forward again and inhaling deeply as he groaned.

"Perhaps you should back up, then," he said, and she obeyed. He stood and removed his undershirt as she reached forward and grabbed him by the waistband of his pants. She pulled him closer ( _almost possessively,_ he thought with a surge of desire) and made swift work of the belt as well as the button and zipper of his jeans, which he dropped to the ground.

"My, my," Elsie murmured, reaching down and grasping him in her hands, sliding her palms over his hardness as his hands reached up and around her ribcage, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

"I need to lie down," he gasped, and she smiled.

"Yes," she said, "that _is_ how this is going to have to work, after all."

He dropped his shorts and sat on the bed, scooting himself up toward the headboard where, he noticed with a laugh, she'd already piled the pillows.

"Prepared, aren't you?" he asked.

"Well," she said, gingerly kneeling on the mattress and reaching a hand out toward him, which he grasped to steady her as she maneuvered her body closer to his, "I didn't want to waste any time, really."

"I appreciate that," Charles said.

Elsie knelt beside him, her posture straight so as not to put any undue pressure on her lower back.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "I mean, are you _sure_ this is alright?"

"I hope so," she said, interlacing their fingers and squeezing his hand. "I guess we'll find out. I think if we're careful – and slow – I'll be _more_ than fine."

Charles took a deep breath, knowing it would be a monumental effort on his part to maintain the slow and careful bit. "I will try but, if it's too much, you have to promise you'll let me know."

She bit her lip and nodded.

"Can you take this off?" he asked, fingering the nightie.

"With your help, perhaps."

He laughed and sat forward, knowing full well that she didn't need his help to remove the item in question.

"Oh, it would be my pleasure." He reached to untie the second strap, and watched appreciatively as the silky fabric slid down to her knees.

"Elsie," he murmured, rubbing his hands up and down her sides before taking hold of the fabric and slowly lifting it up and off of her body.

She leaned forward and he cupped her face once again, tangling his fingers in her hair and picking up on the comforting scent of her shampoo. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply and, when he opened them again, she saw unshed tears.

"Oh, my love," she whispered, brushing away his tears with the backs of her fingers. "Don't."

"I'm sorry, it's just … I feel so _blessed_ … to have you in my arms, to know that you're willing to spend your entire life with me." He leaned forward and kissed her softly, a gentle caress of his lips over hers. "And your eyes – my God, those eyes … so beautiful," he murmured.

She smiled. "Well, I _am_ watching _you,_ " she said simply, tilting her head as she contemplated this amazing man before her. "And I don't think the day will ever come where I am not completely astonished by the look in _your_ eyes when you see me. I feel as though the entire first half of my life was spent just waiting to be by your side. Now that I am, I don't ever want to be anywhere else." She pressed gently on his shoulders and he sat back against the pillows, reaching his hands out for hers once again.

"Go easy on me," she reminded him, and he nodded.

"I'll try."

She laid her hands on top of his, linking their fingers once again and using his strength to help support her weight. She slowly moved her legs so that she was straddling his lap and then she settled back for a moment. He adjusted his posture, sitting up to provide more support for her, not wanting her to have to bend forward more than she was comfortably able. She let go of his hands and her arms ended up around his shoulders, his hands at her waist, and her head fell backward as he gave into his desire, holding her steady as he placed hot kisses to her shoulders, neck, breasts … anywhere he could reach. The pressure of her fingernails on the back of his neck and shoulders spurred him on, and Elsie let herself get lost in the feeling of his mouth on her body.

"Charlie," she said eventually, bringing his gaze back to hers, noting that his eyes were almost black with desire.

It was all she needed to say; he leaned back a bit and supported her torso with his large hands as she raised herself up on her knees and then – very, very slowly – slid down over him and _finally_ welcomed his body into her own once again. She cried out at the sensation, but the look on her face told him that her shout was one of joy and not pain.

"Wait," she murmured once he was completely inside of her. "I just … need a moment."

He nodded slowly in full understanding. It had been such a long time, this closeness something they had both been missing – _craving_ – in equal measure. After a moment, she rolled her hips forward and lifted her body slightly before lowering it again; seconds later he picked up on the slow rhythm she was setting and matched it gently.

They didn't speak, but held one another's gaze, communicating all of their feelings wordlessly as they'd become so accustomed to doing. Elsie felt a flood of desire surge in her abdomen and her eyes widened minutely; he noticed and slipped a hand from her waist to the heat between them, using his thumb to guide her closer and closer to the edge. He felt her tighten around him and returned his hand to her back, supporting her as her body tensed and clenched.

"Ohh …" she moaned, and the sound of her voice was his own undoing …

* * *

"Are you alright?" he whispered moments later, her head resting against his, and she nodded … and laughed.

"You have no idea how alright I am."

"Um," he said, tilting her chin up to kiss her … a sweet kiss that quickly turned passionate as her tongue slid into his mouth before they broke apart again … "I think I do."

"Perhaps," she teased. "But honestly, I feel fine. _Wonderful,_ in fact. Thank you for taking such good care of me," she added, bumping the tip of his nose with her own.

"I will 'take care of you' whenever and however you want, Ms. Hughes," he chuckled.

"I know you will," she said in all seriousness, and she swallowed a small lump that was forming in her throat. "And I'll do the same for you."

He saw something flicker in her eyes - a hint of a question, perhaps - but then it was gone. "We need to get some sleep, Elsie. We have a houseful coming over tomorrow, remember? Here, let me help you …"

He gently helped her up, sighing sadly at the feeling of being separated from her once again, and guided her until she could get off the bed and head into the bathroom. He was rolling something around in his mind, preoccupied, and couldn't seem to quell it as easily as he'd been doing up until tonight.

When Elsie returned, he got her settled into bed and took care of his own evening ablutions. He returned to the bed to find her propped up on his pillows, the sheets billowed around her waist.

"You've not put your nightgown back on," he said.

"An astute observation from the former attorney," she teased. "It's not a hint or anything, I just … I needed to just feel your skin against mine again."

He smiled as he climbed under the quilt. "Good," he said, drawing her close and giving her one more loving, sleepy kiss.

"Charles? Please tell me what's bothering you," she ventured. "I know _something_ is eating away at your mind." She ran her hand up his arm and squeezed gently. "I rather expected you to already be asleep when I came out of the bathroom," she added with a tender smile. "The fact that you weren't tells me I'm right."

He sighed deeply and gazed off toward the window, noticing how dark the sky had gotten and how the moonlight was bouncing off of one of the blossoming trees. It was several minutes before he spoke, but she waited patiently, knowing there _was_ something truly great troubling him if it was taking so much to draw it out. She knew he wasn't having second thoughts about the wedding – even if that had been a worry of hers _before_ it most definitely wasn't _now;_ the highly charged, emotional connection of their lovemaking had effectively rid her of _that_ concern.

"I've something to ask you – _tell_ you, I suppose – and I am afraid it will upset you," he whispered. "I don't think it's fair to keep it from you, but I don't think it's fair to tell you, either. And I don't know what to do with that."

Elsie snuggled in as closely as she could, given that she had to remain mostly on her back. Her head was resting against his shoulder as she reached her arm across his body and drew her leg over one of his. She stared resolutely at the ceiling, positive that she knew what was coming – she'd come to know him so very well, after all, and she'd seen this brewing for quite a while now. She'd first noticed it when he'd been banished from her room by Daisy, who'd been cuddling up with her shortly after the accident. She'd seen a brief flicker of it at the movies with Tommy, and again each time that Edith had visited, and - more recently - when Marigold was at the farm and the girls were doing their book reports at the kitchen counter, discussing how exciting it was going to be for Marigold to be a big sister.

"If it helps, I can make an educated guess," she suggested.

"You probably _could_ guess, by now," he said, and she knew in that instant that she was right.

She took a deep breath and decided to dive right in.

"I don't know if it's possible, Charles," she said, her voice catching in her throat. "And, to be honest, I'm a little disappointed that you never told me you'd been thinking about it all this time."

He sighed softly and it occurred to her for the first time that perhaps his concern was that of _not_ wanting a child together, as opposed to what she'd initially thought, which was that he _did._

"Wait ... Charles? Is it something you _wouldn't_ want?"

"Oh, Elsie," he whispered shakily. He shifted a bit, lying on his side so that he could see her more easily. He trailed his fingers through her hair as he spoke, looking directly into her eyes as he did. "I would welcome it so very, _very_ much if it were to happen. But I wasn't sure if _you_ would, if you'd want to take the chance again knowing that it could end in more heartbreak. And I've been so torn, because I don't ever want you to feel pressured about this; I didn't want to make you feel that, if it never came to be, you'd become somehow _less_ in my eyes, because that would never, _ever_ happen."

"I know," she said tearfully. "I know – I _do._ But there is a big part of me, very deep down, that _does_ wish it would happen, and I'd be a liar if I said otherwise. I've not felt that in a very long time, and it took me a while to recognize it for what it was."

He looked at her curiously. "When did you begin thinking about it again?"

She looked guiltily at him. "Christmas," she whispered. "The day we decorated the trees and then ... um, when we were on the sofa?" she smirked.

"Really?"

"Well, it occurred to me we weren't exactly being _careful,_ and you were having so much fun earlier that day regaling us with stories of Daisy and Santa and Christmas being for children. And you'd made the cookies, and you were just so … well, _Christmassy._ You were just the proudest Papa, and I felt this surge of 'Oh, I wish I could give him that again.' But we weren't anywhere near talk of marriage then, not really, and so it wasn't the time to bring it up. And then, as things went forward, I thought about it more and more. But then I had the fall …" Her voice trailed off, but he understood: there really had never been a good time to discuss it.

"So … We wait and see, then, yes?" he asked.

"I think so, yes. If it's what you want. It seems foolish to start taking precautions _now,"_ she said truthfully. "Only we have to try not to get out hopes up. The fact that it's not already happened speaks volumes."

He snuggled up against her body, pulling her more tightly in his arms and feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"It is what I want," he said. "And if it's not meant to happen, then so be it." He smiled roguishly at her. "But it could be an awful lot of fun if we _tried_ to make it happen," he murmured, nuzzling her ear; she laughed loudly, the sound of it echoing in the quiet room.

"It could, indeed. Charles?"

"Mm-hm?"

"I'll be perfectly content with our little family of three, but I can't possibly put into words how happy I'd be if we had a child of our own, a little person that was part of both you and me."

He shifted a bit to look her deep in the eyes once more. "I know."

"Good. Time for some sleep, love," she whispered, kissing him one last time before he wrapped his arms around her again. He watched her as she closed her eyes, and then remembered something he'd wanted to ask.

"Elsie?" he whispered.

"Hm?" she replied sleepily.

"The nightie – Beryl?"

She huffed out a little laugh and placed a kiss to his arm.

"No – actually, it was Isobel. Her 'parting gift,' she called it."

"Remind me to thank her," he yawned.

Minutes later, ensconced in one another's arms, they drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **I hope you guys aren't disappointed. :) A review would make my day!  
**


	37. Easter

**A/N: Sorry for the brief delay. I was having such trouble with this chapter, for a variety of reasons that I won't go into here. Thanks to a lot of help and listening on the part of my lovely friends, I'm better now. I hope it continues!**

 **My eternal thanks go out to brenna-louise, who has agreed to keep at this story with me by beta reading and providing good support and feedback despite the fact that she's on holiday.**

 **And now … Easter Sunday.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

Elsie woke slowly on Easter morning. She kept her eyes closed at first, able to tell without even looking that the sun had not yet fully risen. As she came into a state of fuller consciousness, she recalled exactly how it was that she'd spent the previous night, and she smiled. She could feel the warm, solid presence at her side, could hear the deep breathing that meant she wasn't the only one who'd had a wonderful night's sleep.

She stretched gingerly, not wanting to wake Charles quite this early. The animals wouldn't need tending for a while yet, and Elsie hoped to catch at least another hour's sleep before she'd be forced to get up and start the preparations for their Easter dinner. Much to her happiness, everyone whom they'd invited (minus Mary and Richard, whom they'd not really expected) had accepted. They were expecting ten guests, making thirteen with her, Charles, and Daisy.

 _Lucky thirteen,_ Elsie thought.

She managed to shift a bit and felt a slight movement by her side; hoping to not waken him, she reached over slowly in search of his hand.

 _Wait a minute …_

"Excuse me, Mister. Just what are _you_ doing up here?"

Max picked up his head and yawned widely. He stood carefully, walked a tight circle by her side, and promptly balled himself up against her body once again, resting his head on her hip and looking up at her with sleepy eyes.

Elsie reached over and scratched his head, shaking hers a bit as she laughed softly. "What awful habits Daisy is teaching you, creeping into the bed," she said. "I know you've not been here all night, though. Where's your big mate, hm? Where's your Charlie?"

"I'm right here," Charles said from his spot in the doorway. He'd been watching her awaken, had discovered that he couldn't take his eyes off of her as she stretched; he rather enjoyed watching her discover that her bedmate was Max.

"Good morning," she said with a smile, appreciating how wonderful he looked clad only in his pajama pants, his hands stuffed into the pockets as he leaned against the doorjamb.

"Good morning, love."

"Why in the world are _you_ up so early? Come back to bed with me."

Charles moved over to the bedside and ordered Max out, then climbed in and took his spot.

Max looked up and whimpered, clearly not amused. Elsie pointed toward the door and snapped her fingers, though, and he grudgingly headed out of the room and back to his own bed.

Charles leaned over and kissed Elsie sweetly, smoothing her hair away from her forehead as she hummed against his lips.

"Couldn't sleep," he said. "Woke up about an hour ago, wide awake." He lay down beside her, and she turned her head toward him.

"And here I thought you'd have been rather exhausted," she teased, placing a kiss to his chest, the soft hair that peppered it tickling her nose a bit and making her smile.

"I slept like the dead beforehand," he chuckled. "But then I woke up, and all the things we had to do started running through my head."

"Hmm. And where are you in your preparations now?" she murmured, her lips still touching his chest but slowly kissing their way across it.

The vibration of her words against his heart caused him to shudder a bit, and he trailed a hand up and down her still-nude torso. "Actually, I think we're all set, except for the actual cooking." He propped himself up on his arms, leaning over her and dipping his head to place a soft, warm kiss to her shoulder, smiling against her skin as she moaned softly. "How do you feel this morning, love?" he whispered, trailing his lips and the tip of his tongue across her collarbone and the swell of her breast.

She ran her hand down his stomach and slipped her fingers underneath the waistband of his pajamas, raising her eyebrows at him as she squeezed him gently, before reaching her fingers even further down and caressing that tender, more sensitive area. "Pretty well - but not as nice as I think _you_ feel."

He gave a low growl, causing the familiar surge of pleasure deep in her abdomen, and she smiled. He backed away from her, though, and she was forced to withdraw her hand as he put his own body out of her reach in order to give hers his undivided attention.

Elsie hummed her approval as he pushed the blankets aside; she reveled in every kiss, each caress, all the words of love he was whispering, things she knew she'd never tire of hearing; she relished the feel of his mouth on her hips, her stomach, her breasts, her neck.

He parted her legs and trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, gently pressing into her hot softness and massaging her as she purred beneath him; when she was almost at the brink, Elsie pushed him away and slowly raised herself to a kneeling position before reaching to tug at his pajama pants, her meaning clear.

"You're alright?" he asked, needing reassurance, and she nodded quickly, watching him hungrily as he disposed of the pajamas and sat up to face her.

"I am," she insisted, reaching her leg over to sit astride him. She took him inside with one swift movement, moaning loudly at the sensation and surprising him with her forcefulness.

"Els?"

"I'm fine. But please, love ... I need _more_ of you," she almost begged him. _"Now."_

He readjusted his position, sitting forward more and reaching down for her bottom, supporting almost all of her weight himself. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, using the leverage to raise herself up and help move her body; he moved his legs apart a little and she sank down impossibly further as he increased his pace, splaying his hands around her waist in order to lift her a bit with every gentle rock of his hips, taking all of the pressure off of the places where she'd been injured.

"Like this?" he panted after a moment, and she nodded, her fingernails digging into his back and causing him to shout out in the quiet of their room.

"Just like that," she whimpered. "Oh … oh, my God, Charlie …"

* * *

 _ **Two hours later ...**_

Elsie came out into the kitchen, her dress open in the back as she sought Charles out to help her with the zipper. She realized he must still be outside with the animals, however, and so she headed over to examine the table; it was - _of course,_ she thought - already set for dinner.

Elsie had asked Charles to take care of everything having to do with the table setting while she prepared the menu and spoke to people about what they were bringing. She couldn't really get out of the house yet, and she'd seen his eyes light up last week when they'd discussed it all. She had teased him mercilessly about his being a perfectionist, but she had been secretly pleased that he would put so much joyful attention into presenting a lovely table and meal for their closest friends and family.

And, as she had expected, everything before her eyes right now was, indeed, _perfect_.

Charles had borrowed a banquet table from Edith and Bertie and had set it almost end-to-end with the dining table, leaving a small space between them for people to pass through. The tablecloths were plaid, pastel in color, and the napkins (cloth, of course, never paper for _his_ table) were in solid colors that matched the tones of the plaid: pink, baby blue, pale yellow, peach, mint green. As she looked more closely at the tablecloth, she realized there were little bunny rabbits in each square of the plaid.

 _Adorable,_ she thought as she fingered the stitching for one of the bunnies. _He chose something absolutely adorable._

Her eyes took in the dishes next - he had used her good china, which was white with gold edging, for the adults, but he had also purchased a set of pale blue plates that matched the table covering. They were some sort of thin material - _Corelle,_ her mind told her - and she knew instantly that he'd not wanted to demean the children (or his own sensibilities) by having cheap paper products for them. He'd also managed to get gold chargers for underneath the plates (where he got those she had _no_ clue), and they gave the entire place setting a more formal look, albeit one that still went beautifully with the levity of the linens. She shook her head as she considered measuring the distances between each charger; she was convinced they would be spaced apart identically on each side of the table.

Picking up one of the napkins, Elsie examined the ring around it, chuckling when she realized it had a little Easter basket charm. She noticed that the stemware was from her hutch, but Charles had somehow managed to procure plastic "stemware" for the children that was clear but _looked_ like crystal; she actually flicked a nail against it to verify that it was, indeed, plastic. Flatware was the one thing she had in abundance, having purchased two matching sets years ago, and she noted with a sense of growing pride that he'd taken into consideration the various courses they'd be serving and had laid the pieces out accordingly.

She stood there smiling, and then moved to pull a small crease from the corner of one of the tablecloths, chuckling at how he'd missed it. Nodding to herself that it was now fixed, she turned to head back into the bathroom when something shiny caught her eye.

 _What on Earth?_ she thought, crossing into the living room area and over to the television set. She reached behind it and pulled out a small, foil-wrapped egg, shaking her head and laughing.

Charles came up the stairs from being outside and she turned to smile at him. "What's this?" she asked, holding it up as she bit down on her lip in amusement.

"What does it look like? It is Easter, you know. One does hide chocolate eggs on Easter when one has children coming over."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. "Or when one is a big child oneself," she teased.

"Funny," he said, glancing at the clock. "Alright, we've half an hour to get in the car to be at church on time. The vegetables are peeled and chopped and in baggies, ready to go; both hams are scored, cloves are in, and they're in the baking dishes and covered. Anna's bringing the salad and Beryl the dessert. If we're home by noon, everything should be ready by dinnertime. I'm _so_ glad you told everyone four o'clock, I will say that."

"You're a godsend, Charlie, honestly. Can you do my zipper?" Elsie asked, turning her back to Charles.

"Of course," he said, sliding the pull up. "All set," he added, and she turned back around.

"I didn't even feel your hands, Charles. How do you do that?"

He just winked at her, and she smiled.

"I love you, you know," he sighed, drawing her into his arms. "So very, very much."

Elsie looked up at him and kissed him softly. "I love you, too. Do you think we should get married?" she asked, cocking her head playfully.

"I do, and the sooner the better," he said seriously.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling his cologne and reveling in the weight of his arms encircling her. "Mm, I know. We don't _have_ to wait, you know. We could just nip down to the Town Hall."

"Sorry, but we _do_ need to wait," he said. "I refuse to take the quick way out. We live together now; in my eyes, we're already a family. The ceremony and reception will make it public for everyone else, and it will be lovely when you're up and about and ready for that type of celebration. But I don't mind waiting for that, because I _already_ have all _I_ need. The rest is just details - lovely, lovely details."

Elsie was speechless. She just stared at him, her eyes welling up, and shook her head.

"You are one amazing man, Charles Carson, do you know that?"

"I'm only amazing because of _you,"_ he whispered, kissing her tears. "I'm a completely different man now that I have you - _you_ don't see it because you didn't know me before, but everyone else does."

"How did I ever manage to find you?" she marveled.

"We've been through this before, don't you remember?" he asked, his voice wavering as the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. "Beautiful nurse, listening to Beethoven, charmed my daughter in seconds flat. Five minutes after meeting you, it was a lost cause for my poor heart."

Her lip quivered at his powerful declaration; she wiped at her eyes and moved out of his embrace, taking his hand and leading him toward the bedroom so that he could change his clothes for church.

"We need to stop this conversation if I'm to pull myself together in half an hour, Charlie."

"Agreed," he murmured, kissing her nose before turning away and selecting a shirt from her - _our,_ he reminded himself - closet.

She stood and watched him for a moment, then shook her head.

"What?" he asked, noticing her staring at him before he moved on to select a tie.

"Nothing … Just, if I'd ever had any doubts, I certainly don't now," she said.

He turned abruptly. "You had doubts?"

But she just smiled sweetly. "No, not yet. So behave, you," she winked.

His rumbling laughter followed her into the bathroom as she went to apply her makeup and put the finishing touches on her hair.

* * *

The morning was sunny and clear, with billowy white clouds in the sky and a warmth that promised spring had arrived at last. Charles managed to secure a parking spot near to the front entrance of the church, for which Elsie was thankful. He got out of the car and rushed over to open her door, helping her out with one hand as she leaned on her cane.

"Don't forget the cushion," she said.

"Ah, right," he said, snapping his fingers. He reached into the back seat and grabbed it, then reached for her unoccupied hand. "Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she mumbled. "I feel like a society girl coming out for the Season. They'll all be watching me, seeing how I'm doing."

"It's because they _care,"_ he reminded her gently. "And, for what it's worth, you look fantastic."

"You're supposed to say that," she teased. "You'd never say if I looked awful."

He stopped short, gently tugging on her hand as he pulled her to the side of the walkway. "I would," he insisted. "Not in so many words, perhaps," he admitted sheepishly, "but still … if you asked, I'd tell you."

She smiled at him. "Well, there is something to be said for honesty, it's true. And you _are_ a terrible liar."

He reached out to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "There. Now you're _perfect._ How about we go and see if Daisy's here?" He picked up their clasped hands and kissed the back of hers, his lips touching upon the engagement ring that sat proudly on her finger.

"Sounds good."

As they made their way in, Elsie was greeted by several of the townspeople. Easter Sunday was the most highly-attended church service all year, something about which Elsie was silently rather cynical. But it was a nice chance to see everyone, to catch up on the goings-on of the town. The beautiful weather today produced an even higher turnout than normal, and it took about fifteen minutes for them to say hello to all who greeted them before they finally made it inside.

"Papa!" Daisy called, before clamping her hand over her mouth and blushing as she realized how _loud_ she'd been.

Charles looked up toward the front of the sanctuary to see Daisy kneeling on one of the pews and waving furiously at him.

"There she is," he said quietly to Elsie, pointing to where his daughter stood.

Elsie chuckled. "You don't say," she quipped.

When they reached the spot where Daisy had been saving seats, Elsie let go of Charles's hand and watched fondly as he bent to hug his girl and receive a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy Easter, petal," he said. "Did the Easter Bunny find you?"

"He _did!"_ she almost squealed, nodding furiously. "He brought me creme eggs and a new friend for Fred," she added, holding up a soft, black stuffed horse.

"My, my," Elsie said, "that looks very nice. Happy Easter, Daisy."

"Happy Easter," Daisy said, moving over to hug Elsie gently. "You look pretty."

"Aw, thank you, dear. It is nice to be able to get out of the house and see everyone. How did the egg hunt go?"

Charles placed the cushion they'd brought on the pew and Elsie sat gingerly, already a bit sore from the car ride, he knew. But the back of the bench was sturdy and straight, and when she sat up and back a bit her relief was written all over her face. Daisy scooted in beside her, and Charles gratefully took the seat closest to the aisle, affording him a bit more leg room should he need it.

"Marigold and I both found twenty," Daisy said. "Uncle Bertie said that was fair."

"It does seem so," Elsie nodded. "I do believe, however, that the Bunny visited _our_ house last night, too. I found _this_ behind the television set," she said, withdrawing the chocolate egg from the pocket of her cardigan and handing it to Daisy.

"May I eat it now?" Daisy asked, and Elsie nodded.

"Why not?"

Charles reached his arm behind Daisy and she snuggled into his side; his fingers reached Elsie's arm and he gave her a light squeeze before resting his hand behind her shoulder.

At that moment, the organist began to play the prelude music for the service. People's voices turned to whispered hushes as everyone settled into their seats, and Daisy glanced around with her eyes wide as she noted an extremely full church. There were more people than there had been on Christmas Eve, that was certain, and she was rather grateful that she had no part in _this_ particular service beyond sitting with her Papa and Elsie and paying attention to what was being said.

Other than remaining seated during the hymns, which she'd normally never have done, Elsie felt quite a bit like her old self as the service progressed. She loved the Easter service, the readings reminiscent of her childhood, the message about peace and hope. She wasn't sure how she felt about the salvation bit, to be perfectly honest, but she liked the idea that with each springtime, opportunities for rebirth and renewal were present. She glanced down at Daisy and over at Charles, and her spirit soared as she realized that all three of them had experienced a rebirth over the past year. Their experiences were different, but the overall endgame was the same: they'd gone through a year of strife and agony, only to become a family at the end of it all.

Charles felt Elsie's eyes on him and turned his head to smile at her.

 _I love you,_ he mouthed.

 _I love you, too,_ she replied silently. As she smiled, she felt Daisy reach over for her hand, which Elsie gave willingly along with a little squeeze.

* * *

Everyone was milling about the fellowship hall at the close of the service. Charles had suggested they simply slip away and head home, but Elsie had refused.

"There's a lift," she said calmly. "I'll take that instead of all the stairs, but I don't want to just slink away."

He tilted his head in agreement, and the three of them rode down one floor to join their friends.

"There you are!" Beryl exclaimed when they emerged from the lift. She wrapped Elsie in a gentle hug. "Oh, it's so good to see you out and about! How are you?"

Elsie nodded as Charles excused himself and Daisy so that they could grab a snack, and turned back to her friend and whispered in her ear, "So very, _very_ much better after some proper sex, I can tell you!"

"Elsie Hughes!" Beryl whispered, astonished, giving her friend a playful smack on the arm. "In church, no less! On Easter Sunday!"

"Well it's not like we _did_ it in church," Elsie replied cheekily. "To really answer your question, though, I am a bit sore after the car ride and all that time sitting in the pew, but I don't even care; it is _so nice_ to just be off of my own property for a few hours!"

"I'll bet. I noticed you're using the cane, though."

Elsie nodded. "Yes, that will be another week or two I think. I'm to use it when out for more than just a short walk, and it helps on the stairs, too. But I shouldn't need it when I return to work."

"Huh," Beryl said, clearly distracted by something happening elsewhere in the room.

"What is it?" Elsie turned to see what Beryl was watching so intently. "Oh, well, isn't that interesting?"

Across the room, Richard Carlisle and Sarah O'Brien seemed to be involved in a heated discussion. Elsie couldn't make out what they were saying over the din of all the conversation in the room, but she did find it curious that the pair were tucked behind a pillar, as though trying to hide as much as possible. After a moment, she realized that it appeared to be Richard who was on the receiving end of Sarah's antagonism, and not the other way around as Elsie had first suspected.

Elsie and Beryl watched with interest as Mary approached her husband from across the room. The look on the young woman's face was indescribable; if Elsie were forced to put a name on it, she'd call it suspicion mixed with rage. She looked on as Mary gently laid her hand on her husband's back, startling him. Mary said something brief to Sarah, who turned in a huff and walked away, saying goodbye to no one - not even the pastor - before leaving the church.

"Well, I'll be," Beryl mused. "Something's rotten there, that's for certain."

Elsie turned to her curiously.

"Come on, Elsie. Those two are suspicious enough on their own, but _together?_ How the hell do they even _know_ each other? That O'Brien woman is never in town unless she's at the school, and he's holed away in his office all the damn time. It's weird, isn't it? And then there's the precious 'Lady Mary,' who's too good for any of us lot. I dunno, it just smells of something bad."

"Yes, well, I have to agree with you about most of that," Elsie allowed. She hadn't told Beryl about the files Charles had seen at the Carlisles' place or about Becky's trouble from years past, and she was now a bit nervous by her friend's overly-perceptive nature. "Charles adores Mary, and that fact _has_ forced me to reconsider my opinion of her somewhat." She sighed, and glanced across the room at the Carlisles once again, noting that they were now engaged in what seemed to be stiff conversation with Charles. "And I will say this: it cannot be easy living with that man. He's truly horrid."

"Oh, yes, you've had the pleasure, haven't you? On that holiday in England?"

Elsie almost shuddered, but managed to keep her expression placid. "Yes, but we didn't spend a great deal of time with them." She was hesitant to say anything more, knowing she could trust Beryl if need be but that she could never say anything with so many people milling about. "Come on," she settled for in the end, "let's fetch our families."

Beryl beamed at her friend. "Ah, yes - our _families."_ She sighed soppily, making Elsie shake her head and chuckle. "Don't you laugh at me, Elsie. I've never seen you so happy, and there's no shame in saying _or_ admitting it."

"I know," Elsie replied softly, her eyes meeting Charles's across the room. She took a deep breath and tore her gaze away to give Beryl her attention once more. "Let's go."

* * *

At a quarter to four in the afternoon, Charles pulled the hams out of the oven. Max was dancing around his feet, hoping for a snack of some sort to come falling from above, but Elsie shooed him out of the kitchen and told him to go play with Daisy instead.

"Come on, Max!" Daisy called, squeezing his fetch ball and making it squeak. Max's ears perked up and he yipped, then tore off out of the kitchen and through the living room, barreling out the door that Daisy was holding open.

"Why don't you bring him out?" Elsie joked, making Daisy laugh.

"Yes, I thought I should," the girl replied, still chuckling as she made her way outside.

"Like peas in a pod," Charles muttered, a broad smile on his face. He turned and found Elsie staring off into the distance, out the window, but not really _focused._ "Elsie?"

She didn't appear to hear him, but jumped when he reached for her hand. "Oh! Sorry … woolgathering, I suppose." She gave him a half-hearted smile, but knew it was no good.

"Tell me. Are you alright? Was the morning too much for you. Are you in pain?" He rubbed his hands up and down her arms lightly and kissed the top of her her head.

"No, actually I feel really well - I think getting out did me some good. I'm a bit sore, but nothing more than usual. No …"

"Then … what is it?"

She bit down hard on her lip as she contemplated whether or not to even bring it up, but knew he'd never let it drop until she did.

"This morning, after church, Beryl and I witnessed something rather odd."

His brow furrowed immediately. "Such as?"

 _Sigh._ "It was Richard - with Sarah O'Brien, believe it or not."

His eyebrows shot straight up. "In some kind of ... indecent situation?"

"Oh! No, not at all …" She stopped abruptly, considering that thought for a moment. "At least, I don't _think_ so. No. No, that's not what it looked like," she mused, her gaze focused inward again as she recalled the scene at the church. "Although, if it were _ending …_ but, no …"

"Elsie, you're not making any sense. What, _precisely,_ did you see?"

"Well," she began, "Beryl noticed it first, called my attention to it. The two of them were behind one of those huge pillars - you know, by the sink? And they were arguing, rather quietly I must say as I didn't hear a word really, but it was definitely heated. The odd thing is, I think Richard was bearing the brunt of it. Sarah was positively _seething._ I've never seen her like that and, believe me, I've seen her pretty upset before."

"I bet you have. But you've no idea what they were discussing?" he pressed.

She shook her head. "No, but Mary came upon them then. I wouldn't say she was sneaking, but she definitely approached slowly and she startled Richard when he noticed her presence. I don't think Sarah saw her coming near them at all, either, because Mary came at them from the other side of the pillar. Anyhow, Mary said something to them and Sarah turned on her heels and stormed out."

"That _is_ odd," Charles muttered, and he breathed a deep sigh. "I don't suppose Beryl knew anything?"

"No," Elsie replied. "I've not even told her about that file he had on me, thought it best not to until we figure it all out - if we _ever_ figure it all out."

"There were a ton of those files, Elsie, enough for there to be dirt on half the town or more." He paused, and she could see he was debating telling her something.

"Charlie," she said, "what is it?"

"So many names, Elsie," he murmured, shaking his head. "Names _I_ recognized, and I've not even been here a full year." He looked down at her, and she could see it in his eyes before he even spoke the words.

"I'm terrified for Mary," he admitted, his eyes misting. "If he harms her, or _worse_ …"

"Shh - Charles, don't." She wiped at his eyes with her fingertips. "Your niece has more fire in her than I think even _you_ recognize. She won't let him get away with anything like that."

"But she refused to go to the police," he told her. "I said that I'd report him myself if need be, but I'm not sure she believed me. And I don't want to place her in harm's way; he's clearly a very dangerous man!"

"She refused? But _why?"_

Charles looked down at the floor. "I can't say," he whispered. "She made me swear to secrecy. I'm sorry, Els."

"No," she soothed him, lifting his chin again so that she could look into his eyes. "Don't be."

"I hate keeping anything from you, particularly something important. I had enough of _that_ sort of thing when I was married to Alice."

She pursed her lips, remembering his distress the night he showed her the photos from her own file, how upset he was not to be able to confide in her everything he had learned.

"Charles, you are a man of integrity and honor, and I love you for it. I don't _need_ to know everything; I rather appreciate that you can keep a secret, if you must know."

"But we're getting married, Elsie," he said, taking her hands in his and caressing the tops of hers with his thumbs. "We're supposed to tell each other our secrets."

"Oh, you lovely man," she whispered, standing on tiptoes to place a kiss to his lips. "This one's not _your_ secret, is it? It's _hers._ And the entire town knows there's no love lost between your niece and myself. No, this one you keep - until _she_ decides otherwise."

He nodded, and then jumped as the doorbell sounded.

"Hello?" came Anna's voice from the doorway. "Happy Easter!"

Charles gave Elsie a quick, but searing, kiss. "I love you more every day, woman. Thank you."

Speechless, Elsie just shook her head and turned toward the doorway.

"Anna! John, Fiona - welcome! So glad you could make it!" she smiled.

* * *

There was so much food that Elsie worried for the safety of the borrowed table: two hams, sliced; dishes of potatoes, green beans, carrots, turnips; a pineapple stuffing casserole that John's mother had brought, which was gone in a matter of minutes (and to which Elsie had secured the recipe already)*; fresh rolls from Beryl. On the counter were the desserts, which no one could even fathom being able to eat.

Charles had made little place cards for everyone, and Elsie smiled as she looked around her table; friends and family, strategically placed to make conversation flow smoothly. Elsie and Charles sat at each end of the array, and the Masons and Pelhams were mixed in with the Bateses and Anna. To Elsie's immediate left was Fiona, and Bertie was seated to Elsie's right. Charles had put himself beside Anna, to whom he rarely had a chance to speak, and William, who was currently asking Charles questions related to going into the field of law. Beryl and Bill sat in the middle, directly across from one another, flanked by Marigold, John, Ivy, Daisy, and Edith. She knew Charles was annoyed by the uneven number of seats, but he'd just placed more children on the side with the extra person; it worked beautifully.

Elsie was thrilled to have a chance to speak with John's mum, but she noticed the woman seemed preoccupied, glancing at Anna and John surreptitiously when she thought no one would notice.

"Fiona?" Elsie asked quietly, reaching to touch her arm. "What is it? Is everything alright?"

"Oh! Yes," Fiona replied, flushing slightly as she nodded. "Sorry, I was miles away."

"I noticed," Elsie smirked. "You're sure everything's alright - with John?"

Fiona glanced down at her son again, then across to Bertie, who was currently deep in discussion with Daisy about something or other. Satisfied that she wouldn't be overheard, she turned back to her hostess.

"I'm not sure, Elsie. I feel as though he's keeping something from me, but I can't put my finger on it." She shook her head minutely. "They never stop being your babies, I can tell you that. Thirty-eight years old and he's still my little boy," she murmured, her eyes full of love.

"Well," Elsie said quietly, "if _Anna's_ behavior is any indication, they're doing just fine. She's been positively thrilled this week, but swears nothing's new. Still …" Elsie's voice drifted off, something clicking in her mind.

 _No,_ she thought. _That can't possibly be it. Only …_

John's eyes met hers then, as though he could pluck the very thoughts out of her mind. Elsie cocked her head a bit and raised an eyebrow, flicking her eyes in Fiona's direction before looking back at Anna and then, once again, at John. He returned her look with a tiny smile, and gave her a slight nod.

 _Oh, my goodness - they_ _ **did!**_

John knew the secret was out and, although he did trust Elsie to keep it, he felt badly that his mum didn't know. He rose from his seat and went over to where Anna was, then whispered something in her ear.

"You're sure?" she asked softly, and he nodded, reaching for her hand and pulling her up.

"Alright, everyone, it seems we have a little announcement to make," he said, clearing his throat and smiling broadly at Anna as she looked up at him.

"Oh, my God," Fiona said loudly. "You're engaged, aren't you? I _knew_ something was up with you two!"

"No," Anna said hesitantly, looking to John for reassurance and shooting him a look that smacked of an _I told you so!_

"No, Mum, we're not engaged." He took a deep breath before adding, "Because we're already married."

" _What?"_ Beryl shouted. "When? _Where?"_ She looked down at Elsie. "Did _you_ know?"

But Elsie just shook her head. "No, I did not. I will say this, though … I am _so very happy_ for you!" She stood with some effort and made her way over to the happy couple, kissing them each on the cheek before giving John her undivided attention.

She rested her palm on his cheek lovingly and asked him quite seriously, "You will take very, _very_ good care of her, won't you? Because she's almost like my own girl, you know, and if you don't …"

The rest of the threat went unspoken, and Anna swallowed a lump in her throat. Elsie had long been the only mother figure in Anna's life, something which Anna appreciated perhaps now more than ever.

"I swear," John said quietly, his eyes reassuring her of the truth.

Fiona joined them and wrapped her son in a huge hug before backing away and pinching his cheek lovingly - but _hard._

"John Bates," she said, shaking her head. "You're more like your father than you know." She turned to Anna and explained, "John's Da and I eloped, you see, after my parents refused to let us marry."

"I know," Anna giggled. "That's where he got the idea."

"And you've robbed me of a wedding," Fiona continued, a sparkle in her eye. "You _will_ pay for that when and if any babies come along and a shower is needed, you do realize?"

Everyone laughed, and Fiona blushed as she realized everyone was watching them. She turned back to Anna and opened her arms, drawing the young woman into a tight hug.

"Welcome to the family, love," she whispered in Anna's ear, and Anna nodded as a couple of tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

Charles stood and raised his wine glass, the others following suit as Bertie passed Elsie's and Fiona's over to them.

"To Anna and John Bates - may they have so very many years of unbridled happiness."

"To Anna and John!" everyone echoed, raising their glasses. As Elsie sipped hers, she glanced over at Charles, only to find him staring at her intently.

 _We're next,_ his eyes said, and she nodded.

* * *

The sound of the phone ringing startled Elsie from a deep sleep. Her mind foggy, she couldn't quite place what the noise was until it rang three more times.

"Charlie," she said, her voice thick with sleep, "Charlie? Can you get that?"

"Hmm?" he mumbled. "What?"

The phone stopped ringing then, but started anew moments later.

"The _phone,_ Charlie - it's ringing off the hook!"

He opened his eyes, hearing it at last and glancing at the clock as he got out of bed. "Bloody three in the morning," he grumbled. "Who on Earth …"

He stumbled out into the hallway and grabbed the phone off the wall. "Hullo?" he mumbled into the mouthpiece.

Elsie sat up gingerly, a bad feeling settling in the pit of her stomach as she put her slippers on and went out to join him.

 _Not Becky,_ she prayed. _God, no … Please, just don't let it be Becky._

It wasn't.

"What?" Charles demanded. "Slow down, man, I can't make out what you're saying."

Elsie laid her hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "Who is it?" she asked softly, but he just shook his head.

"What? That's impossible," he was saying. "A _fire? Where_ did you say?"

A pause.

"Bloody hell," he whispered, and the fear in his voice made Elsie's hair stand on end, her skin now covered in gooseflesh.

"And they don't know who …" he was asking. "Alright. Yes, yes, I'll be right there. Yes, thank you." He pressed the button to end the call and replaced the phone in its holder on the wall before turning to Elsie.

"What the hell was that?" Elsie asked fearfully. "A fire, Charlie?"

He nodded, and she opened her arms and drew him in.

"Yes," he said. "The newspaper building; it burned completely to the ground about an hour ago."

"Oh, my God, Charles!" Elsie exclaimed. "Are Mary and Richard alright?"

"They don't know," he said, his face crumpling as he began to cry. "They've found two bodies, but they can't identify who they are. They can't ... Elsie, they can't reach Richard _or_ Mary, and want me to come down to the police station. I'm supposed to ... to give them any places or numbers where she or Richard might be reached."

"Wait - was her car gone?" Elsie demanded. "Surely _that_ would tell them something?"

"I don't know," he said helplessly. "I didn't even think to ask that. But I have to go. Can you stay with Daisy?"

"Of course," she said, kissing his chest. "Come on, you'll need some clothes. Go splash some cold water on your face and I'll get you some things."

She led him down the hall and pulled out some clean clothes for him, laying them on the bed for when he got out of the bathroom. She then headed back to the kitchen to put on some water for tea.

Seven minutes later, Charles emerged from the bedroom. He'd managed to quickly shave and brush his teeth, and his hair was tamed into some semblance of propriety.

Elsie heard him behind her just as she snapped the lid onto a travel mug.

"Here," she said softly, turning and handing it to him, "I've made you some tea. You're going to need it."

He nodded mutely, and she pulled him down for a loving kiss.

"Call me as soon as you can," she said. "Don't worry about waking me - there's no way in hell I'll be sleeping again tonight."

"Alright," he said, grabbing his keys and dropping one more kiss to her head before heading for the door.

"I love you, Elsie," he said as he donned his coat, and she nodded.

"I know," she answered, smiling at him as she stood in her nightshirt and slippers. "I love you, too."

She watched from the living room window as he got in the car and drove away, her eyes on the tail lights until they disappeared around the corner and into the darkness of the night.

"Elsie?" came Daisy's sleepy voice, and Elsie turned swiftly. "Whassa matter? Where's Papa?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

Elsie swallowed and took a deep, steadying breath before heading over to where Daisy stood. She reached out and took Daisy's hand, then led her back to her bed.

"He's just had to run out, Daisy. Nothing to worry about."

"Now?" the little girl asked, but she was already half asleep again.

"Yes, but he'll be here when you wake up in the morning," Elsie replied, bending gingerly to tuck Daisy's sheets back around her and handing her the two stuffed horses. "What's this one's name?" she asked. "Fred's friend?"

"Beauty," Daisy murmured, slipping away into her dreams again.

 _Of course,_ Elsie thought with a smile.

"'Night," Daisy mumbled. "Luff you."

"Luff you too, petal," Elsie whispered, brushing Daisy's bangs out of her eyes.

 _Hurry home, Charlie,_ she thought. _And please, please let Mary be alright._

* * *

 ***Pineapple stuffing is a real thing, and it's amazing. Our friend brings it to our house every Easter! If you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you think!**


	38. Investigations Begun

**T/W: Discussion of home/building fire and victims.  
**

 **A/N: The first bits of the story are flashbacks. They're not written chronologically, so please be attentive to the dates and times. :)  
**

 **IF you haven't read Ch. 37: Easter, DEFINITELY read that before starting this one.**

 **More notes at the chapter's end. Lots going on here. My thanks to brenna-louise and Hogwarts Duo for their help.**

 **I hope you enjoy this one - it answers quite a few questions, but produces several more.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **April 5, 2015 (Easter Sunday)**_

 _ **11:08 a.m.**_

Richard Carlisle stood stirring in another spoonful of sugar, cursing whoever had made the disgusting swill in his cup that was trying to pass as coffee. He heard the woman approach but chose to ignore her, knowing it was probably a lost cause; the thing was, he really couldn't have cared less about what she had to say. Not anymore. When she had gotten near enough that he could smell her revolting perfume, he crinkled up his nose, turning to see what she wanted.

"You were supposed to take care of her," Sarah whispered angrily. "And yet I had to sit through an entire church service looking at the back of her head from two rows back. Why is that, do you think? Did you get cold feet?"

"I have no idea what you mean," Richard said calmly, sipping his coffee tentatively and grimacing. He poured it down the sink and left the cup on the counter for someone else to wash. He moved over to the pastry table and selected a cookie that looked harmless enough, then headed back to his place in the back of the kitchen.

 _Always hang back in the shadows,_ he reminded himself (as if he needed the reminder). He was always watching, always noticing who was with whom, how everyone interacted; it was the trick of his trade, really. Well, _both_ of his trades. But he found Sarah waiting for him; he wasn't surprised, really, as he knew she wasn't one to give up easily.

"You know _exactly_ what I mean. We had a deal!" she growled.

He looked at her, his eyes taking her in from head to toe and back again: mussed hair, wan complexion, dowdy dress, and she'd lost weight recently, too.

"You look like shit, Sarah. Take some time off – get some sun, relax, read a book, find a man … or, perhaps, a woman?" he said, eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous," she spat. "Of course I look like shit. Got the kid living with me, don't I?"

"The 'kid' is a grown man. Kick him out if you can't handle him … or his proclivity for violence."

"I can handle him just fine," she muttered. "And he'd have handled _her_ if you'd held up your end of the deal and gotten him the job at that damned hospital. It would have been so easy."

"He couldn't handle _Becky_ Hughes and she's in a mental home; what makes you think he could take on her sister?" Richard laughed at her, shaking his head at her utter stupidity. "What is it about her that you hate so much, anyway? This can't _seriously_ be because she got hired at the school over your brother."

"Shut up," Sarah said. "But listen here: I'm not standing by after doing all that work for you only to have you pull out at the last minute. My brother needs a job - hell, he needed a new _life_ after that whole hospital incident. He could still have one if you could just manage to get rid of her!"

"Get rid of her _how?_ You've provided me with nothing on her – _nothing!_ The woman is spotless – she even paid all of the medical expenses for her sister's would-be rap-"

"She knows nothing about that," Sarah interrupted. "Besides, Timmy says the woman was coming on to him. She _asked_ for it. Wonder what Miss Misty Cove would make of that?"

"Of course she knows nothing about it," he retorted. "Because I never told her. As I see it, Sarah," he said, taking a bite of the cookie and brushing the crumbs from his chin, "I think _you_ owe _me_ for keeping that silent. And you can't possibly tell me you _believe_ your sick brother's story? Otherwise, why would he have been so roughed up?"

"Because the woman is crazy! And you promised to help him. We had a _deal,_ Richard! I provide you with information on the others, you get Timmy a job. If you don't, so help me, I'll talk."

"Elsie Hughes isn't the crazy one here, Sarah. Disgustingly pristine, yes. But crazy? Not nearly as much as you, sweetheart."

She recoiled as though he'd slapped her in the face.

"You're not telling anyone _anything,"_ he said, his voice a combination of amusement and carefully-controlled fury. "Elsie Hughes's file is as much a file on _you_ as it is on her – you _and_ your piece-of-shit brother. You squawk and the whole town hears about Timmy O'Brien trying to attack a child-like woman in a mental home, about how she had to fight back and how he couldn't even defend himself against her. So I think you'll keep quiet for sure," he sneered. "Not good for the local third-grade teacher to be associated with all that."

He jumped a bit when his wife placed her hand at the small of his back.

"Miss O'Brien, isn't it?" she said calmly and quietly.

Sarah looked back at her, the ice in the younger woman's eyes sending a shiver down Sarah's spine.

"I hate to interrupt this sweet chat, but my husband and I have to make the rounds a bit before we head home."

Sarah looked at Richard who, she noticed happily, seemed a bit grayer now that his wife was present.

"This conversation isn't finished," she whispered, and she turned on her heel and stormed out the door.

"Don't ask," Richard warned Mary.

"I don't have to," she said. "I heard enough."

His eyes widened a bit. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to see that you left your dirty mug in the sink for Joe Molesley to wash out," she said, walking away.

Mary heard Richard follow her after she'd taken about three paces, but it didn't matter; three paces provided more than enough time for her to decide _exactly_ what she needed to do.

* * *

 _ **Sunday, April 5, 2015**_

 _ **9:47 p.m.**_

Richard was digging furiously through his desk and file cabinets, clearly angry at not finding what he was looking for. He didn't even hear Mary come down the hallway.

She stood for a moment and watched him, wondering how in the world she had been able to stand being his wife for as long as she had. The man was revolting; ever since she'd figured out what he'd been up to this entire time – all the blackmail, all those files – she'd had to fight not to vomit every time he kissed her, touched her, made love to her.

 _No more._

She shifted her weight and the floorboard creaked, seeming to shout across the void of the hallway.

Richard whipped his head around, clearly startled.

"I thought you were in bed, darling."

"No," she said, tapping her nail on the doorjamb.

"Well, why don't you get up and get ready? I've got a few more things to tie up here before I join you."

"Looking for something?" she asked.

Richard narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps. I don't suppose _you_ would know anything about that?"

"Me?" she asked with a harsh laugh. "Since when do you trust _me_ with anything, Richard? No, whatever it is, I don't know where you might find it."

He stared her down for a moment, his eyes like blue steel. "You'd better not."

"Goodbye, Richard," she said, turning away from him.

"Goodbye? What in hell does that mean?" he called after her, getting up from his position crouched down by the file cabinet. His knee stuck a bit as it always did when he was squatting down for too long, and he swore softly.

"It means I'm going out. Don't wait up for me," she said as she continued down the stairs, the small suitcase already waiting for her at the bottom, out of sight.

"Mary? _Mary!_ Don't you walk away from me!"

She slammed the door behind her and loaded the bag into her car before lowering herself into the driver's seat. She reached into her pocket, squeezing the flash drive to reassure herself that it was still there, then picked up her cell phone and slid open her contact list.

* * *

 _ **Monday, April 6, 2015**_

 _ **1:10 a.m.**_

The banging on the door woke him from a sound sleep. He rolled over and put the pillow over his head, determined not to give in. If the spiteful little bitch was stupid enough to leave her key at home, she could damn well stay out there and sleep in the Jag.

Minutes later, though, when the knocking had turned to pounding, he started to wonder if perhaps it _wasn't_ his wife. Maybe it was a neighbor or, worse, the police.

He sighed and got out of bed, pulling on his robe as he shuffled down the stairs, the infernal pounding louder with every step.

"Stop! I'm coming!" he shouted as he reached the bottom step. He reached out and unlocked the door. "My God, Mary, what in the -"

 _"There_ you are!"

 _"Laura?_ What are _you_ doing here?"

"Shut up," she said, shoving past him and heading toward the stairs. "You were supposed to see me today, Richard. I know you got the money I sent."

He shut the door and locked it. "I told you I didn't know if I'd be by, Laura. Something came up – it's Easter, for God's sake. I had to have dinner with Mary, you know that." He reached out for her arm, but she ripped it out of his grasp and headed up the stairs.

"She's not here, is she? Has she finally left you? I saw that her car was gone."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

She crested the top stair and turned to look at him as he stood two steps down. She swayed a bit and reached out for the banister, and it occurred to Richard how easy it would be to just reach out, pull her hand _just enough,_ and …

"Where is it, Richard?" she asked, snapping him back to the present. She headed in the direction of his office, and he hurried after her.

"It's in the kitchen," he said quietly. "I'll go and get it – _stay put."_

Laura sniffed and wiped at her nose, but he saw the fear in her eyes, knew she understood the threat implied in those few words. She nodded, and he turned away and headed to the kitchen.

 _Stupid bitch,_ he thought. _About time to cut_ _ **those**_ _ties for good, old boy._

He opened the cabinet at the back of the pantry and pulled out two bottles, shaking his head at how ridiculous the entire situation was. If he hadn't been counting on better information from her lately regarding his pain-in-the-ass project, he'd have done away with her _long_ before tonight.

As he placed the bottles on the counter, he thought he heard something - some strange, unidentifiable noise … and then it was gone. He cocked his head and listened, trying to see if he'd hear it again, and he did. It sounded as though it were coming from the office downstairs, and for one insane moment he thought the press was running.

 _No,_ he thought, confused in his groggy state, _it's not that loud. What the hell? … It sounds like the damn wind ..._

Hearing the floorboard creak in the hallway he snapped his head back to attention. He closed the cabinet and turned to make his way back through the kitchen, the sound from downstairs already forgotten.

* * *

 _ **Monday, April 6, 2015**_

 _ **1:07 a.m.**_

Sarah nipped behind the office as she saw someone walking down the street.

 _Who in hell is out at this hour?_ She leaned against the wooden staircase that led to the second floor, grateful she'd chosen black jeans and a black sweater, helping her to blend more easily into the shadows.

She set the gasoline can down and breathed slowly, making herself as silent as possible. She had to focus, to calm herself, and she reviewed through the plan for the hundredth time.

 _Letters written – check. Letters mailed – check._

She felt for her pocket.

 _Matches – check. Gasoline – check._

She forced herself to count to three hundred, figuring five minutes would be long enough for the person to have passed by but, when she got to two-hundred-forty-five, she suddenly heard knocking.

 _Oh, shit – she's **here?**_

She almost laughed, her head spinning as she tried to maintain some semblance of control, the absurdity of the entire situation almost too much. She clamped her hand over her mouth and bit down on her tongue in a monumental effort to remain quiet.

 _He's never going to answer,_ she thought – but, seconds later, the pounding stopped and the door opened. Sarah decided she didn't even care that another person would be up there. She had to do two things, and two things only, and couldn't be concerned with anything else:

 _Step One: Torch the place._

 _Step Two: RUN._

She poured gasoline around the edges of the stairs – thankfully constructed out of wood, which Sarah thought might just be the most idiotic thing she'd ever seen. _Who builds a fire egress out of wood?_

One match, a swipe, and a toss – _Poof!_

She backed away from the blaze but watched it intently for a few moments, mesmerized. She saw the flames dancing before her, spreading and licking the wood, and she was fascinated by how the paint bubbled and curled. After a minute or two, though, she moved to the front of the building. She took a chance – the only unplanned part of the entire ordeal – and broke the window pane; her heart skipped a beat at the sound of the glass shattering, and she reached in to unlock the latch, quickly raise the window, and climb in.

Making her way to the office's side door, she opened it a bit. The door faced the neighboring market and opened into the alley in between; no one would ever even notice that it was ajar. She needed the escape route, but she also needed the draft that it, combined with the open window, would provide.

She quickly poured the lion's share of the gasoline down in the office, concentrating on the areas where the stores of paper and chemicals were held. She dumped the last bit by the main door – the one that led to the stairs to Richard and Mary's apartment – and tossed the can onto the floor. Making her way to the door she'd left ajar, Sarah took a moment to appreciate the power of what she'd just done. After a lifetime of feeling that life had passed her by, that she was in control of _nothing_ except the whiny children that sat before her on a daily basis, she was at least in control of _this._

 _Just do it, Sarah,_ her mind whispered. _Just. Do. It._

She pulled the small matchbox out of her pocket and withdrew one more match. She struck it against the sulfur, watched it light, and tucked it back into the edge of the box, tossing the entire thing onto the doormat. She watched as it lit the fibers of the rug, the small flames licking the floor until they grew just enough to catch on the gasoline.

Sarah removed her gloves and tossed them toward the fire. She heard the immensely satisfying _whoosh_ as the flames raced across the floor and approached the back wall; she then exited through the alley door and ran off.

 _Just like a thief in the night,_ she thought. _Goodbye, Misty Cove._

* * *

 _Stay put, stay put ..._ Laura heard Richard's words echoing in her head.

 _No. No more._

As soon as he'd turned down the hallway into the kitchen, she rushed into his office and quickly slid open the desk drawer, thanking her stars that it had been unlocked. She looked under the papers and saw …

 _Wait. Where's the other one? He always said there were two._

Her heart racing, Laura snatched up the one flash drive she found and slid the drawer shut, tucking the drive in her pocket as she raced back to her previous spot in the hallway … just before he came around the corner.

Richard took in the woman before him, her panicked look, and his eyes narrowed as he looked her directly in the eyes, those dark blue eyes that were identical to his own.

"Laura," he said slowly, the suspicion evident in his voice.

"Thank you," she deflected, reaching out for the bottles in his hand.

"I don't see why you don't just go to the store yourself," he sneered. "Oh, wait – _that's right!_ They won't serve you there anymore, _will they?_ And you without a driver's license to go elsewhere … tsk, tsk."

"No, they won't," she whispered, her head bowed a bit under his gaze, her fingers trembling as she clutched the bottles.

"Those are the last ones, Laura," he said quietly.

Her head snapped up in horror. "You wouldn't do that to me, Richard."

But he only laughed in her face.

"You've brought me nothing for _weeks,"_ he whispered. "You promised me more information months ago, said it would be so much easier to get it now because of _him_ , but you've brought me nothing!"

Richard reached out and grabbed the back of her head, his fingers tight in her hair. "Don't make me tell the whole town about you, about your dirty little secrets, hm?" He gave her head a good shake and then pushed her away, noticing once again how dangerously close to the stairs she was. "Hurry along, now. And try to have something good in that envelope next week – besides the rent, I mean."

But Laura turned to look at him. "My secrets are your secrets, too, Richard. Do you think it would be so hard for them to figure it all out, to see how we're connected? Well, guess what? I don't even care anymore. As far as I'm concerned, you can go f-" She stopped suddenly, sniffing the air. "What in hell?" she whispered.

She turned and saw the smoke coming from below the door at the bottom of the stairs. "Richard?" she asked, her voice wavering.

He peered around her and saw the smoke, rooted to his spot as shock settled in, the strange sound coming from downstairs suddenly making so much more sense.

"Richard! Move!" Laura pushed him aside and ran for the kitchen, stopping short when she saw flames lapping at the sill of the kitchen window. She turned to the screen door that led to the deck but saw the flames flickering through the screen as more smoke began to creep into the kitchen.

"Oh, Christ," she uttered. "Richard! The phone – call 9-1-1!"

But Richard remained frozen where he stood.

" _Richard!"_ She dropped the bottles, not noticing that one went rolling down the stairs and smashed onto the tile floor at the bottom, only serving to ignite the fire even further as it had now made its way into the small hallway, catching on the carpeting that lined the stairs and creeping up.

She reached for the phone on the wall and dialed, but the line was dead.

"No," she whispered, starting to cry. "No!"

Richard looked at her, his gaze fuzzy as realization dawned on him. The room was now filling with smoke, and one glance outside the office window confirmed his suspicion: _The entire downstairs must be ablaze by now._

He reached into his pocket for his mobile and then remembered he was wearing his bathrobe. Finally springing into action, he headed back to his bedroom … and burned his hand on the door handle.

"Fuck!" he shouted, grabbing his wrist with his other hand. "I can't open it!"

"Richard," Laura whispered. She's slid down to the floor and was sitting clutching her knees, the full onslaught of what was going to happen suddenly, shockingly clear.

"No!" he shouted, heading to the other window. He tried to lift it but couldn't manage with the burn on his hand. "Laura! Open the window!"

But when he looked at her, her head was on her knees as she rocked back and forth.

"Laura!"

She didn't hear him. She had finally accepted the reality of their situation, and she was attempting to make up for a lifetime's worth of sins in one brief, soft prayer.

"Please watch over my boy," she kept whispering. "Just please … watch over my boy."

* * *

 _ **Sunday, April 5, 2015**_

 _ **10:10 p.m.**_

 _10:10 p.m._

 _Are you home?_

Tom started as the phone buzzed beside him on the sofa. He muted the TV and grabbed the phone, hoping it was Sybil saying she'd gotten out early. He swiped the screen and saw … _Mary?_

 _10:11 p.m._

 _Yes … What's up?_

Mary heaved a sigh of relief that he'd even answered her text at all.

 _10:11 p.m._

 _You busy? Need some advice._

 _10:12 p.m._

 _Sybil out at 1. I'm free now. Come over?_

 _10:13 p.m._

 _Thx. See you in 5._

They'd barely spoken since he'd driven her home on New Year's, but they'd spent about an hour talking in the car that night and, with Richard having been away, she'd invited Tom up for a drink afterwards. He'd worried about what it might look like if anyone saw him sneaking up to her apartment in the middle of the night, but she had just laughed.

"Everyone knows I'd never cheat on Richard," she'd said soberly. "He'd kill me."

Tom's blood had run cold as it had occurred to him that she might be absolutely serious. They'd spent the rest of the early morning hours talking about anything and everything, each of them seemingly having found a friend in the other.

They had more in common that Tom ever would have realized: Mary was from a wealthy family, he knew, and he was just a kid who grew up poor. But they'd both come to the US fleeing a life they wanted no part of anymore, and they clearly both had secrets, things they wouldn't share with the other … not quite yet, anyhow. He had been surprised to realize over the course of that night that Mary was actually rather shy, her cold façade often masking a sense of unease; despite that _(or maybe,_ he thought, _because of it)_ he'd felt he could confide in her. Tom had few good friends in Misty Cove, despite being acquainted with most of its citizens because he owned the only garage in town; other than Andy, Elsie, and a couple of others, Tom Branson was very much alone.

For her part, Mary had felt as though a new facet of her life had opened up that night. Since moving to Misty Cove, she had always felt like an outsider. Her only sister was one of the most well-respected people in town, and Mary had done herself no favors when she refused to show up by Edith's side after Michael Gregson had died. She'd thought her saving grace would be Uncle Charlie moving to Misty Cove with Daisy. He'd always had a soft spot for Mary and, despite the fact that she was adamantly refusing to have a child with Richard, Mary absolutely adored Daisy. But then Uncle Charlie had met Elsie Hughes, and Mary stopped seeking him out, feeling like an intruder in his new life.

Tom may have thought he had few friends in Misty Cove, but Mary had _none._ She couldn't afford to get close to anyone at work, lest she be seen as being a soft touch - not when Richard was already harping on her about being too gentle with people whose accounts were behind. She'd tried to stay away from most of the social events in town, finding them too reminiscent of her former life in England, when there had always been an expectation that she'd circulate through the crowd and make beneficial connections. No, Mary usually kept to herself, which was why going out for a few drinks on New Year's Eve and having gotten a ride home from Tom had been a life-altering event for her: it had shown her that perhaps it _was_ possible to have someone to confide in, someone to … trust. She certainly couldn't spill everything about her life to the mechanic, but she knew she could tell him some of it.

And so it had been that, over two pots of coffee and a plateful of leftover pastries from Christmas, Mary and Tom had become friends. He'd encouraged her to get out more; she'd encouraged him to finally drum up the courage to ask out the cute nurse he'd met at the hospital the week he'd cut his hand.

Mary pulled up in front of Tom's apartment and got out of the car. She set the alarm and headed up the steps, and he met her in the open doorway.

"What's going on, Mary?" he asked.

"No beating around the bush, I see," she replied, brushing past him as he held the door for her. "Please tell me you have something stronger than the coffee I offered you last time," she chuckled.

Tom headed over to his small liquor cabinet, withdrawing a bottle of whisky and two tumblers. "This okay?"

She nodded, and he poured them each a healthy measure.

"Sláinte," he said, clinking his glass against hers, and they both downed a healthy amount in one go. He motioned for her to sit, and she took the spot nearest to the small fire in the hearth, a sudden chill in her bones that she couldn't shake.

Tom took the chair across from her, sitting patiently as he waited for her to gather her thoughts.

"I've left him," she finally managed, staring into the dark, amber-colored liquid in her glass.

Tom sat up a bit straighter. "Have you?"

"Mm," she murmured, nodding. "But I'm going to need help … advice, perhaps, as I said in my text." She looked up, meeting his calming gaze with her own frightened eyes. "I may even need to go home, much as I loathe the idea."

"Mary," he asked hesitantly. "Have you _done_ something? I feel as though I'm missing a huge chunk of information here."

"I've … taken something," she said slowly, "something of Richard's. He doesn't know yet, but he'll figure it out soon enough, perhaps in as little as a few hours, even, given that I won't be returning as he expects I will."

Tom leaned over and refilled her glass and topped off his own.

"You'd better start at the beginning," he advised her. "Just let me text Sybil and ask her not to come over tonight."

Mary's head shot up. "Oh, no, I don't want you to do that. I'll leave by then, I promise. I don't want her getting the wrong idea."

"You don't know Sybil," he smiled, pulling out his phone. "She won't mind."

"Actually, I _have_ met her," Mary said. "At the hospital, when Elsie was there. Sybil helped my niece and I figure out where to get a decent cup of tea. She's sweet, I liked her."

He beamed. "That she is. And she's trustworthy, too. She'd never tell anyone you were here, not if I ask her to keep it to herself. But I understand you may not want her to know anything that's going on."

Mary smirked. "Well, perhaps it's still best that you not call her quite yet, then. Who knows? If Richard finds me, it might be good to be acquainted with an ER nurse."

She sat back and toed off her shoes, then tucked her feet underneath her legs and proceeded to tell him everything.

* * *

 _ **Monday, April 6, 2015**_

 _ **6:15 a.m.**_

"Charlie?" Elsie practically shouted as she answered the phone. "What is it? What have they found?"

"It's not her," he said right away, the relief evident in his voice. "It's not Mary."

"Oh, thank God," she breathed.

"I'm sorry, I should have called you earlier, but it took me a bit to get a moment alone."

"It's alright, I expected that. But … Charlie, who _are_ those poor people?"

"They don't know," he said. "Mary's with the police now, she just arrived. Elsie, she's not slept at all."

"Where on Earth _was_ she?"

He hesitated before answering. "She was with Tom Branson," he said quietly.

" _Tom?!"_

"Not like that," he explained quickly. "They're friends - she'd mentioned it to me ages ago but I had completely forgotten - and she'd gone over there seeking his advice after walking out on Richard."

"She walked out on Richard?" Elsie shook her head. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble following all of this, Charles."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't have enough details, but I wanted to check in and let you know I'm alright, that _Mary_ is alright. She's safe, and the police are questioning her."

" _Questioning_ her? Why - oh, my God, do they think it was _arson?_ In Misty Cove? And they think _Mary_ did it?"

"They seem to. I will say, this police chief -"

"Vyner," she said with some disgust. "Yes, I know - he's not the brightest bulb, is he?"

"No," Charles said, some amusement in his voice at her choice of description. "He has to question her though, doesn't he? I think even I'd start there."

"But Tom _can_ alibi her?" Elsie pressed.

"I think so, yes. As long as they believe _him._ It seems he's seeing that nurse you had at the hospital, and she saw Mary at his house."

"Sybil?"

"Yes, that's her name. She corroborates that Mary was there when she arrived at a little after one o'clock. If they believe her and Tom, Mary's alibi is pretty solid. Vyner and the fire chief estimate that's about when the fire was set, give or take half an hour. Mary simply couldn't have done it, not if she arrived at Tom's just after ten last night, as they claim. Her texts to him corroborate that."

"Good. But why would she want to set fire to her own business, her own _home?_ That makes no sense."

Charles took a deep breath. "I know," he said evasively, "and I can't answer that right now. Richard is also missing, though."

"Charles, what should I tell Daisy? All the children at school will be talking about it. Oh, shit - how am I to get her there? I still can't drive. Perhaps I can call Anna …"

Charles sighed. "No, keep her home, I think. You can tell her about the fire, and assure her that her Aunt Mary is safe."

"And Richard?"

She could almost feel his fear and unease coming at her through the phone.

"Tell her we don't know where he is at the moment. Technically it's true; they can't … they can't identify _who_ the bodies are by looking at them."

"Oh, my God," she gasped, her fingers pressing into her lips.

"There will be DNA testing, of course. The Chief Medical Examiner was there when I drove by."

"Good, that's good. He's thorough, very much so. And quick. He's from Portland, nice man. And I'm rambling - sorry."

"Don't worry and, yes, Vyner also said he's excellent. Of course, anything Mary would have been able to access to provide Richard's DNA burned in the fire, so they'll need to get his records from his physician."

He yawned widely, and Elsie felt an emptiness that she couldn't describe.

"I miss you," she said simply. She was managing to control her voice, but he heard her distress nonetheless.

"I know, love. I've got to stay here until they've finished with Mary, and I have no idea how long that will be. If one of the bodies from the fire _is_ Richard, she may be in trouble. She admits to having argued with him before leaving. The worst thing now would be for the M.E. to determine that Richard was, for some strange reason, dead _before_ the fire started."

Elsie was silent, stunned at the thought that Mary Carlisle may have actually killed her husband before walking out on him, never knowing that all evidence of his death would quite literally go up in flames hours later. The chances of that having happened were slim, but it wasn't impossible.

"Well," she said. "You know where we'll be. Stay safe, Charles."

"I shall. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"More than anyone ever has?" he murmured, smiling a bit for the first time that day.

"You've got that right. Hurry home to me, Charlie. We have a wedding to plan."

* * *

After hanging up the phone, Elsie had managed to go back to bed for a couple of hours. She hadn't bothered waking Daisy, thinking it would be easier to let the girl sleep as long as she could.

Daisy slept until just after eight. She got up and went to wake her Papa to tell him she was late for school, but she only found Elsie. Wondering if he might be out tending the animals, Daisy woke Elsie gently.

"Elsie?" she whispered. "Elsie, wake up. Where's Papa? I'm late for school."

She watched as Elsie opened her eyes slowly and yawned. "He's out for the day, but he's fine," she reassured Daisy. "And _you_ get to stay home with me today."

"Why?"

Elsie deflected the question for the moment. "Can you do me a favor?" she asked.

Daisy nodded.

"My phone is in the kitchen, on the counter, charging. Can you bring it to me?"

Daisy ran off to fetch it, and Elsie made herself sit up slowly. When Daisy returned, Elsie sent off a quick text to Anna asking for her to stop by and tend to the animals this morning and saying she'd explain everything when they saw each other. She knew Anna would know about the fire and, if she put two and two together (which Anna was so very good at doing), she'd figure Charles might be otherwise occupied and unable to be at the farm today.

"What's happened? Where's Papa?"

Elsie patted the bed, encouraging Daisy to come up and join her.

Daisy crawled up, uneasy about what Elsie was going to say. Her Papa was _never_ just gone in the morning, and Elsie didn't look very well.

"Daisy, there was a fire in town last night. At the newspaper building."

"Aunt Mary's newspaper?" Daisy whispered, horrified, eyes wide as she stared at Elsie.

"Yes," Elsie said. "Your Papa is with Aunt Mary now. She's completely fine, she wasn't home when it happened, but the building was destroyed."

"Where are they?"

"At the police station, trying to help the police and fire chiefs figure out what may have happened."

"Where's Uncle Richard?" Daisy asked, wondering why Elsie hadn't mentioned him.

Elsie licked her lips. "We aren't sure, Daisy. They're trying to find him now."

"Okay," she said softly. "And then Papa is coming home? When?"

"Well, he may be busy most of the day, and he'll be very tired when he gets home. He'll call you later, though, when he can."

"Alright. And I get to stay home?"

"That's what he said," Elsie said, smiling at her. "So, what do you think … breakfast, movies, maybe a visit with Anna and your Monday afternoon ride?"

Daisy's face lit up. "Yes! Can we make pancakes?"

"Sure," Elsie laughed. "Let's go!"

* * *

Elsie and Daisy spent the rest of the morning relaxing. Anna had stopped by during breakfast and had seen to the animals, having then promised to return by three for Daisy's riding appointment. She would end up coming by at half past two and staying until five, though, which would allow a still-exhausted Elsie to take much-needed nap.

An enormous breakfast meant that Daisy and Elsie skipped lunch. Elsie had Daisy choose a couple of pay-per-view movies, and they spent the afternoon in Elsie's bed, watching them and laughing quite a bit. Charlie called during one of the movies, speaking to Daisy for a few moments and promising to be home after dinner in time to kiss her goodnight. When he spoke to Elsie, he had a little bit more news. Mary had been deemed free to go for the moment, provided she surrendered her passport. The fire inspector was certain it was arson and, until the bodies had been examined and identified, no one associated with the building was allowed to leave town. Mary would be spending the night at her beach house, Charles said, and he would head home after taking her to dinner and making sure she ate something substantial.

Elsie woke from her nap around four, looking out the window to see Daisy still riding around the paddock. Her phone rang but she couldn't get to it in time, and she let it go to voice mail. Two minutes later, though, it rang again. She picked it up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Hughes - Elsie?"

"Tommy? Hey, how are you?"

"Um … not so good, actually. Do you mind if I come by?"

 _Odd._ "No, not at all. It's almost dinnertime, though, are you sure it's alright with your Mum?"

He paused, and she thought she heard him sniffle. "It'll be fine," he said gruffly. "But I need to talk to you about something. It's important."

"I'm here," she said. "Daisy and Anna will still be outside, I'll tell them to look for you. You're taking your bike?"

"Yeah," he answered. "See you in about fifteen minutes?"

"Alright," she said, and she hung up the phone.

 _That was strange,_ she thought, getting up and changing her clothes. She ran a brush through her hair and headed into the kitchen to pull one of Beryl's meals from the freezer and pop it in the oven. She really shouldn't be bending too much, but the pan wasn't heavy. She set the oven temperature and timer and examined the remaining contents of the freezer, which finally seemed to be decreasing as the days went on. Elsie shook her head and smiled as she thought of her best friend; Beryl was nothing if not over-prepared, and she'd brought about thirty meals over throughout the course of Elsie's recuperation.

Elsie texted Anna and let her know to be on the lookout for Tommy. She put some water on for tea and, when it was ready, decided to make a cup for herself and bring it down to the sunroom. She sat gingerly in her chair and looked out over the pond, a layer of fog covering it as the day changed into evening.

 _Fire. Two bodies, likely arson. Not Mary. Richard? Unknown, but likely one of the victims. The other one likely female - how do they know? Maybe because she was smaller ... I wonder about insurance, what they had. Oh, God, the employees - they'll all be out of jobs. But they should have been out of the building long before the fire, so it's likely not one of them …_

The knock at the door went unheard, but Max's bark alerted Elsie to Tommy's arrival.

"Come in!" she called to him, and he obeyed, letting Max out as he did so.

"Down here, Tommy," Elsie said kindly, and he came into the sunroom to join her.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked, and he nodded.

One glance at him told Elsie that Tommy Barrow was decidedly _not well._ She handed him the cup, having added his sugar and milk the way she remembered he liked it, and sat back.

"Tommy? What's the matter, dear? Did something happen at school?"

"I didn't go," he mumbled, taking a sip of the tea and relishing the hot, burning feeling as it slipped down his throat.

"Why not? Were you ill?"

His bottom lip quivered. "No. It's my Mum. She … she's disappeared. I said goodnight to her when I went to bed, and she was gone when I woke up. I stayed home to wait for her, because sometimes she goes out late, but she never came back." A huge tear spilled out of the corner of his eye and he furiously wiped it off of his nose, but others only followed.

"The fire," he choked out. "You know about that, right? It's Mr. Carson's family that owns the building, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said tentatively. _What kind of mother leaves her son to go out gallivanting at night?_

And then her heart skipped a beat, and she found herself covered in gooseflesh once again.

 _Oh, no … It couldn't be …_

But of course it could. There was no reason at all to think the female victim of the fire hadn't been Laura Barrow.

"She … She used to … go there sometimes," he stammered, trying and failing to gain control of his emotions. He balled his fists tightly, feeling his fingernails digging into his palms. "To the newspaper building. She used to send me there, too. He owns our house," he explained. "She'd send me to bring the rent, but sometimes she'd go herself, because he'd give her …"

"Alcohol?" Elsie supplied, something clicking into place in her mind. _Barred from the town's liquor store years ago, after an altercation with another customer ..._

He nodded, then looked up at her.

"She was trying to quit, honest, she was!" he almost shouted. "She wanted to be able to do more things with me, wanted to feel better again," he said.

Elsie rose up from her chair and moved to sit beside him, attentive to the softness of the loveseat but worrying more about Tommy. She looked at him and then did the only thing she thought to do: once more, Elsie Hughes opened her arms to the sad boy before her, and he practically crawled into her embrace, tucked himself away, and cried his heart out.

"Shh," she soothed him, patting his back. "We'll figure it all out, Tommy, alright? Do you trust me?"

She felt him nod against her chest.

"Alright, then. We're all here for you, Tommy. We'll figure out what to do - I promise."

* * *

Charles finally made it home just after eight that evening. He kissed Elsie on the cheek, waved to Tommy (who was still seated in the sunroom and talking on the phone with Jimmy), then made a beeline for Daisy's room.

"Papa!" she shouted. "Finally!"

He sat on the side of her bed and leaned down to receive a tight hug and a kiss.

"Hello, petal. I'm so sorry I wasn't here today. It was a long day, and I am _so_ glad to be home with you now."

"Tommy's here," Daisy said. "His Mum's missing."

"Yes," Charles said carefully, "that's what Elsie told me. We'll figure that out, too, but you need to get some sleep, my dear."

"Yeah, I'm tired. We watched movies today, and I got to ride Scarlett."

"How is your favorite girl?" Charles asked, tapping Daisy on the nose and making her giggle.

"She's good," she said happily. "And Elsie had me take a shower and she braided my hair. She said it'll be wavy tomorrow!"

Charles looked at her fondly, his smile widening as he contemplated his daughter.

"What?" she asked.

"I love you," he said. "That's all."

Daisy leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you, too, Papa."

"Try to sleep, alright? I promise, I'll be here when you wake up."

"Am I going to school?" she asked.

"You are," he insisted. "Marigold missed you, you know."

"Yeah, she called me today after she got home. She said all the kids were talking about the fire."

He hid a shiver as he asked the inevitable question. "Did she have anything to say about it?"

"Nope, not really," Daisy said.

 _Thank God,_ he thought. _They didn't hear about the bodies, then. That won't be the case tomorrow, though._

"Do you know why Tommy's here, petal?"

"Yeah," she said sadly, fiddling with her bedspread. "His Mummy didn't come home last night, and he's scared."

"He is. Will you keep an eye out for him tomorrow, make sure you're extra kind to him?"

She nodded furiously, and his heart almost shattered. _Yes, of course,_ he realized almost too late. _She understands._

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then tucked the blankets around her, Fred, and Beauty.

"Good night, Papa."

"Good night."

Charles closed Daisy's door softly and made his way out to the kitchen. He peeked through the doorway to the sunroom to see Tommy still on the phone, and was happy to hear that it sounded as though Tommy would be staying at Jimmy's house tonight.

"Jimmy's Mum is picking him up in half an hour," Elsie said softly from where she stood by the sink.

Charles approached her wearily and opened his arms, tucking her into her spot by his heart as he held onto her for dear life.

"I don't know what I'd have done if I didn't have you to come home to tonight," he whispered, his voice catching.

"Shh. Half an hour, Charles. Half an hour."

She felt him nod against her head before dropping a kiss to her hair.

They stood like that until they heard Tommy get up, then pulled away as he came into the dining room. He looked at them from across the counter, and it struck Elsie that he looked completely _lost._

"Jimmy's Mum is on her way," he said quietly. "Daisy go to bed?"

"She did," Charles confirmed, "but she'll see you at school tomorrow. She can meet you and Jimmy out front, if you'd like."

He nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

Elsie moved over to him. "I know it's all so confusing now, Tommy. But we've called the police and told them she's missing, and they're looking all over for her."

"She wouldn't have just left me," he said, his lip quivering again.

"No, I don't believe she would," Elsie answered, squeezing his shoulder. "Come on, let's see if Max wants to go out and we can wait for Mrs. Kent, alright?"

"Sure."

She walked him out the door, her hand resting gently on the back of his shoulder: _protective,_ Charles thought as he followed them out, _but not overly mothering. She always knows just what to do._

Julia Kent arrived as planned, thanking Elsie for allowing Tommy to call her and promising to stop by his house and get enough things for a couple of days. The women shared a meaningful look, and Elsie knew that their thoughts matched: it was looking more and more likely as the hours went on that Laura Barrow was, indeed, the woman who'd perished in the fire. What on Earth she'd been doing there was anyone's guess. Elsie remembered that the boys were lifelong friends and that their mothers had been close, too, and she was impressed that Julia was holding herself together as well as she was.

"Thank you," Elsie said, and the woman nodded.

"No problem. He working here this week?"

"Tomorrow, actually, but if he can't -"

"No," she interrupted, looking at the boys as they talked quietly by the car, "it'll probably be good for him. I'll drop him off after school."

"That would be fine, thank you."

The woman nodded, then turned back to the car. "Okay, boys, let's go! Everybody in!"

"Bye," Tommy called softly, waving his hand.

Elsie and Charles waved back, and Elsie felt his hand as it brushed across her hip and landed at the small of her back.

"How are you feeling?" he murmured as they watched the car drive off.

"Tired, but not as tired as you. Come on," she said, taking him by the hand. She whistled for Max, who obediently came in and brushed up against Charles's leg until he got the scratches he wanted.

"Good boy," Charles said, crouched down. Max wagged his tail and gave Charles a wet kiss on his chin.

"Thanks," he laughed, and Elsie smiled as she watched them both.

"My boys," she chuckled.

Charles stood up and took her hand again.

"Shower," he said, and she nodded. They peeked in Daisy's door to be sure she was asleep, and then headed to their bedroom. They removed their clothes without speaking; simple, mundane movements before tossing them all in the hamper.

Elsie got into the shower stall and turned the water on - hotter than normal, to help them both sleep and to help Charles feel as though he really was scrubbing away the horrors of the day.

They didn't speak at all; no words were needed at that moment anyhow, not really, and Charles wasn't quite ready anyhow. Elsie motioned to the shower chair that still sat in the stall and he sat. She grabbed the shampoo and washed his hair, slowly massaging his scalp, applying firm pressure before sliding her hands down to his neck and shoulders, trying to work out the knots and kinks that had been put there by a day's worth of worry and fear.

The second he sat down, Charles allowed himself to finally _relax._ He let Elsie take care of him, feeling no shame in his weakness and fatigue, knowing he could trust her fully like he'd never trusted another person. As she worked the tension from his body, he emptied his mind as much as possible. As he was rinsing she quickly washed her own hair and body, then he finished up and they got out. He helped her to dry off and went to get them each a drink as she dried her hair and brushed her teeth.

Ten minutes later, Elsie came out to find Charles sitting up in the bed, a glass of brandy in his hand. He helped her in beside him and handed one to her, then went back to finish getting himself ready for bed. He shaved and brushed his teeth, then combed his hair, the routine things helping him settle his mind a bit. When he got back into bed they sat quietly against the pillows, holding hands; she refused to push him to speak, knowing he would when he was ready.

"There's barely anything left," he said quietly after a while. "Almost the entire building burned; only the frame remains, really. The siding on the grocery store next door was melted, but thankfully it didn't catch. Whoever did it used a tank of gasoline; the fire inspector found remnants of it. The entire top floor caved in; the bodies were buried under some debris, I think. I'm not sure - I drove by, but the M.E. was there."

She stroked the back of his hand, saying nothing. She didn't remind him that he'd already told her some of this; she just waited patiently.

"Mary is a mess," he continued. "She's in complete shock. They'd argued before she left, but no more than usual. She'd packed a small bag, intending to spend the night at the beach house."

He turned to her then, and Elsie saw true fear in his eyes. "She took one of his flash drives of files with her," he whispered. "It has digital copies of everything. He had two, according to Mary, but this one had the information about her, too."

"Wait," Elsie said, speaking up for the first time. "About Mary?"

He nodded. "Yes, about Mary." He turned to her and leaned over, kissing her sweetly on the lips before sitting back again. "She told me to tell you everything."

"Not tonight," Elsie said. "Tonight you sleep."

The corner of his mouth turned upward, and he nodded as he took her empty glass. "You're the boss," he teased.

"I am tonight," she answered, smiling softly at him. "You can be the boss tomorrow."

"Deal."

Charles helped Elsie lie down comfortably, and she lifted her arm for him to tuck himself in by her side. She cradled him almost like a child as he rested his head on her chest; she ran her fingers through his hair, soothing him as he allowed the brandy to finish taking effect and make him drowsier as the minutes wore on.

"I love you, you know," she said softly.

"I do," he whispered, kissing her belly.

She didn't realize he was crying until she felt the wetness on her nightshirt, but she said nothing, merely continuing to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck until they both drifted into a deep, much-needed, dreamless sleep.

* * *

 **Okay, PLEASE let me know what you think by leaving a wee review for me. HUGE THANKS for all the ones you've all left so far. I know a ton of you review as guests and I truly appreciate each and every word you write. I wish I could reply to the guest reviewers directly but I cannot do so unless you set up an account. I promise to reply if you do that, though. :)  
**

 **Kudos go out to _lemacd_ who was the only person to guess the identities of _both_ people who died in the fire.  
**

Final tally of your guesses:

Richard Carlisle – 22

Sarah O'Brien – 20

Timothy O'Brien – 4

Mrs. Barrow – 1

Unknown/Unimportant character – 5

Vera Bates (very, very creative and wish I'd thought of that) – 2

* * *

 **Below, please find the recipe I promised, which many of you asked me for. I'll go back and paste it into the Easter chapter, too.**

 **Pineapple stuffing (PM me for metric equivalents):**

2 sticks softened butter

2 C. sugar

8 Eggs

1 Lg. or 1 Sm. Cans crushed pineapple

1 loaf day-old challah bread (or another sturdy bread)

1\. Cream butter and sugar together.

2\. Add eggs one at a time, mixing between each addition.

3\. Add cubed bread. (You can cube the night before or just before adding in, but recipe works best if bread is a couple of days old.)

4\. Drain pineapple (reserve liquid) and add fruit to mixture.

Bake at 350 degrees for one hour. Save pineapple juice to drizzle on prior to reheating.


	39. For Better or Worse

**A/N:**

 **Disclaimer: I'm not a police officer, or a county prosecutor, or a district attorney. And this is fiction. So I do apologize if the timeline for the legal happenings doesn't quite look right. Please enable your willing suspension of disbelief.**

 **We're progressing forth a bit here, and there's a small amount of M-ness near the beginning. Elsie is feeling better every day, and will be back to work in under three weeks' time. So, um, here's to healing!**

 **OMG, the reviews ... all of your reviews ... gah! I try to reply to each of them, but I'd love to chat with all of the guest reviewers, too, if you are so inclined. Please do consider opening an account so that your reviews may be answered!**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise for looking this over even though she's still on her wonderful holiday! (hugs) I have made changes since she saw it, though, so any typos you may find are 100% mine. (*begs forgiveness for guaranteed typos herein*)**

 **Back to Misty Cove we go! xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, April 7, 2015**_

As Charles forced his eyes open in the predawn hours of Tuesday morning, he heard Elsie softly snoring underneath him. He'd fallen asleep on her chest somehow, and he lifted his head as he slowly reached for his pillow. Comfortable once again, he reached his arm over her and gently held her to him as she slept. He could smell her shampoo, a trace of her perfume, and the general smell of _home_ that pervaded the house - some mixture of dinner, laundry, candles, and soap.

He felt his heart start to flutter a bit as it often did when he was feeling overwhelmed; he touched his thumb to his fingers, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly, a calming technique he'd learned ages ago when he'd had his heart attack. It was a trick he'd employed many times, at least a dozen of them in the last twenty-four hours alone. He wasn't fearful of having another heart attack, but he was well aware that he needed to be careful.

As he exhaled the fourth time, he stared at Elsie's soft, relaxed face, almost childlike in its sleeping innocence. Her lips were moving, twitching almost, and he wasn't sure if she was going to wake or start talking in her sleep. But then she licked them, took a deep breath of her own, and tucked herself closer to him, tilting her head so that it was underneath his chin. Her soft snores resumed, and he smiled brilliantly into the near-darkness of the room.

As the minutes ticked on, Charles thought he'd never get back to sleep, not with the thoughts that were now rolling around in his mind. He had huge concerns for Mary and about the unknown identities of the bodies (although he was fairly certain of who they were).

 _Daisy is going to school today. What will she overhear? What will happen to Tommy with only his father to take care of him? Will they move? Surely not, although the man hasn't been around for ages now._

Counterbalancing all of that were the more pleasant thoughts he finally allowed himself to have about the wedding: what Elsie might want, where they might have it, where they should go on honeymoon. He clung most tightly to that last thought, knowing they'd _need_ a little vacation once they made it through the storm that was currently brewing all around them.

But the idea of marrying the wonderful woman who was currently sleeping in his arms? _That_ was what would keep him going these next few days. She'd soothed him so gently, so thoroughly, last night, knowing just what he needed, what he'd allow and what he wouldn't allow. He'd given himself up to her wholly, and she'd cared for him in a way he wasn't sure he'd _ever_ been cared for before.

She'd told him he could be the boss today, and he fully intended to hold her to that. He had a multitude of things to do, including checking in with Mary, but he was hell-bent that he and Elsie would be spending at least three hours alone together, without another soul to think of besides each other, and preferably in this very room. He needed to get lost in her touch for a while, and he had a feeling she needed the same.

Thus decided, Charles tucked his face into Elsie's hair and was finally able to drift back to sleep.

* * *

When Elsie woke, she found she didn't want to move, so comfortable was she wrapped in her beloved man's embrace.

 _This is how I want to awaken every day,_ she thought with a happy sigh. _Just like this._

But she did move, eventually, pulling herself out from underneath his arm so that she could nip to the bathroom and back without waking him. She glanced at the clock: _5:10._

As she scooted back into bed, Elsie sidled up against his body and bumped into … _Well, now. Imagine that._ She smirked as she heard him gasp, and she gently rolled onto her side to face him, resting her leg up on his in order to keep the pressure of her hip from weighing down on her back.*

Charles had stirred a bit from the sensation of being bumped into, but he woke fully when Elsie rested her leg over his. He kept his eyes closed, though, relishing in the sensation of her hand ghosting over his chest and shoulders. Her fingers traveled down across his stomach, then slid underneath the waistband of his pajamas just before she wrapped her hand around him.

"And just what do you think _you're_ doing?" he mumbled, his eyes still closed as he gasped with pleasure, his fingers tight around the edges of his pillow.

"What does it feel like I'm doing?" she mumbled back. "It's early, and you're … up." She leaned forward and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his shoulder, supporting herself gingerly on her elbow.

His eyes did open then. "Els, you're not supposed … ahhhh, oh my … um, not supposed to be moving about like that. On your …" _gasp_ … "side."

"I'm fine," she said, applying more pressure as she caressed him, reaching a bit further down to gently drag her nails across his sensitive skin.

"Elsie, stop, please," he begged, reaching for her hand. "Or, at least, wait."

He removed her hand from his pajamas, then gently rolled her onto her back.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, confused. "I'm sorry, I thought -"

"Shh," he cut her off, leaning over and kissing her rather passionately, sweeping his tongue across hers before trailing his kisses across her cheek, down her jaw and to her collarbone, using one of his hands to gently lift her nightshirt as he used the other to suspend himself over her body. "It's not all about me," he clarified with a smile.

"Well, it _could_ have been. But I _did_ say you could be the boss today," she breathed as his fingers trailed downward.

"You did," he replied.

"This wasn't exactly what I meant by that," she said, and he laughed softly.

"Is that a criticism?"

"Hardly."

He moved to kiss her softly, and then whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to try something, Elsie, but if it hurts you, just let me know and I'll stop. Alright?"

She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes, but just nodded.

He moved back down the bed slowly, trailing kisses down her body as he did so. She realized what he had in mind just before he lifted her legs and placed them gently over his shoulders. He looked up at her questioningly, a smile playing about his lips, and she relaxed back down onto the pillow.

"I'm fine," she murmured, and he felt a surge of pride at the catch he heard in her voice.

Elsie willed herself to relax as she felt his lips kissing from her knee upward - agonizingly slowly, a flick of his tongue every now and again, as though he were teasing her of what was to come. And then she felt his large hand on her abdomen, keeping her steady as he …

 _Ohhh …_

She had to will herself to remain steady, to not writhe her hips underneath him as he gave her his undivided, delicious attention. She could hear herself panting after a few moments.

 _R_ _ather unladylike,_ she thought, but she didn't care.

The forced stillness, combined with the ever-present need to remain as quiet as possible, was making her almost mad with desire. And it had been _so long_ since they'd done this, she was just … well, overwhelmed.

He could feel her desire climbing, growing, the muscles in her thighs tightening around him, and he slowed his ministrations and pulled away from her slowly. She groaned with frustration, and he chuckled at her as he wiped the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, I'm not done yet," he reassured her.

She watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he slowly rose above her, cradling himself between her legs.

"Charles," she cautioned, but he silenced her with one look: _Trust me,_ it said, and she nodded.

She did.

He reached for her left leg and moved it a bit, straightening it so that it was only bent slightly; he then took her other leg in his hand and bent it a bit further up, opening her to his body but not nearly as much as she normally would have been.

"How's that?" he whispered in her ear, and she nodded quickly.

"Fine, it's fine, oh my God, just do … something." She grasped for him but couldn't reach what she wanted while lying flat on her back.

Charles reached underneath the small of her back and lifted her gently, supporting her weight with his hand. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, slid into her, and she almost cried out in joy at the feeling of having the weight of him upon her - and _within_ her - once again.

By keeping one of her legs down he was lessening the amount of pressure put on her tailbone, but the pressure _inside_ was incredibly different. She could see the furrowed concentration on his brow, the amount of effort he was putting into making sure she wasn't being hurt at all.

"I'm alright," she gasped, encouraging him. "You can … a little more, a bit faster, I think, just … gently."

He'd never made love this slowly in his life, and the need for restraint was almost overwhelming him.

She'd never felt such tenderness; his clear regard for her well-being, his complete and total dedication to _her_ desires and needs wholly overshadowing what she sensed were his own. The intensity of that, coupled with the fiery love in his eyes as they bored into hers, was going to prove to be her undoing.

As the tension built, she contracted her muscles around him, and they both tumbled over the edge in wave after wave of pleasure. It was all he could do not to collapse on top of her, and he slowly withdrew his body from hers after a few moments and removed his arm from behind her back, allowing her to rest against the support of the bed. She lowered her leg as he rolled onto his side, drawing her into his arms and placing feather-light kisses to her shoulders, her neck, and her lips.

"That was … amazing," she said. "Thank you for being so gentle ... Boss."

He chuckled softly. "I bet that's not exactly what you meant, though."

"Do you hear me complaining?" She snuggled in a bit closer to him and he kissed her on the forehead. "How'd you sleep?"

"Very well, actually. I'll have you know that I've already made plans for the rest of our day, too," he said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Plans like this?" she asked, reaching her hand down and caressing him once again.

"Mmm, yes, rather like this," he said, swallowing. "But _after_ we get the girl to school."

"So you'll come home, and then I'll get to spend a lazy day in bed with you? I'll take _those_ plans anytime," she smiled. "Go get in the shower, love. I'll get up and get breakfast started."

He helped her out of the bed, and she nodded when she caught his questioning gaze.

"I'm fine," she said. "Better than fine. _Amazing."_

He smiled at her, and wrapped her in his arms as she stood.

"You _are_ amazing," he whispered into her hair. He cupped her cheeks in his hands and tilted her face up so that he could look straight into her brilliant blue eyes. "And don't you ever forget it, my love."

* * *

"Well, Daisy's all set," Charles said as he came into the house. He dropped a kiss to Elsie's forehead as he reached for the cup of tea she prepared for him.

"Did she meet Tommy at the door?"

"She did, actually - insisted on waiting in the car until he arrived, so we pulled into the parking area instead. Of course, he had Jimmy with him, too. I think he'll be alright; Jimmy seems quite protective of him."

"Good," she replied as she stood in front of the sink and looked out the window. "I'm so worried about him, Charles. Phyllis is going to try and get a hold of his father today, but …"

He moved up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I know," he whispered, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Maybe she'll have trouble reaching him and he can just stay with the Kents."

Elsie turned to smile sadly at him. "It doesn't quite work that way, but Phyllis is a licensed social worker; she'll take care of it. I've no idea if he has other family, but even if he did, there's no way of knowing if she could even contact them." She sighed deeply. "We'll see what happens when she calls his father. I told her to keep me posted."

They sat down and had a leisurely breakfast, stealing glances and sending smiles to one another across the table. It felt so normal, so _married,_ that Elsie had to keep reminding herself that they weren't actually wed yet.

"What?" Charles looked at her inquisitively.

"Just thinking." She smiled half heartedly. "We're supposed to be planning a wedding, but we've kind of got a lot going on at the moment."

"As it happens, I was thinking of that very thing this morning," he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. "We should at least determine what _type_ of wedding, and perhaps the _where_ of the thing."

"The _where?"_ She looked at him in horror. "No way, Charles - we are _not_ having this wedding in England."

He laughed aloud. "Oh, heavens no! That's not _at all_ what I meant. I was referring to whether or not you'd like a _church_ wedding."

"Oh, I see," she laughed. "Well, what do you want?"

He saw her draw her lip under her teeth, the telltale sign that she was worried about his answer.

"I want to marry you," he said simply, squeezing her fingers. "I don't much care where or how, as long as you're the one walking up to where I'll be standing." He kissed the back of her hand, and smiled.

"Well," she said, smiling back. "You did the church thing the first time around, didn't you? Even Joe and I had a church ceremony, and it was just us and Becky."

"We did, yes, and with hundreds of guests, too," he grumbled. "I don't think that many people live in this entire _town."_

"Well, I don't really want the entire town," she joked. "Just you and Daisy, Becky, a few friends, and your family. That's it." She got up and took their plates to the sink.

"So you wouldn't mind if it weren't at the church?" he clarified.

"No, not at all."

"Well, then," he began, unsure of what she'd do when she heard his suggestion. He moved to her side of the counter and leaned back on it.

Elsie heard the hesitation in his voice and turned to face him. "What are you thinking, Charles? Out with it."

He reached out and took her hands. "How about ... the beach?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "As in _on_ the beach? Here?"

"At Mary's place." He leaned down to kiss her. "It's rather … special to us, isn't it? I mean, it is to me, because of _you_. And I know she'd be happy to do it."

"She's rather got a lot on her plate at the moment, Charlie," she chided.

"I don't mean she should _plan_ it, Els. Just that she could let us use the house, the property. We can easily accommodate … twenty-five, probably?"

Elsie did a quick mental calculation: _Thirteen at Easter, plus Becky, the Crawleys, Isobel, likely Richard … Phyllis and Joseph, maybe Tom Branson, definitely Mary …_

"That could work," she said, a smile growing on her lips. "Beachfront ceremony, and we'd easily be able to use the piano room if it were to rain. We could set up white folding chairs …" She trailed off, and he smiled to see her staring off into the distance, her eyes already alight with excitement.

It seemed like they finally - _finally_ \- had some things that were looking up.

* * *

Mary rubbed her hands up and down her arms, grateful for the sweater she'd tossed on at the last minute. She took another bite of the breakfast sandwich she'd brought along, trying to choke it down even though it was making her nauseous.

 _Burned. Gone - all of it. And likely Richard, too, and who knows who else._

She was waiting for Vyner to return with coffee. He'd let her spend the night at her house but had requested she return by eight in the morning. They'd spent most of the previous evening at the station discussing what she wanted: Mary had offered to turn over the files she'd taken from her husband, proving that he'd been blackmailing several of Misty Cove's citizens for years, in exchange for full immunity from her own crime. He'd raised an eyebrow at that, and she explained that one of the stories on Richard's flash drive was _her_ story. Vyner had encouraged her to get an attorney; she'd called Charlie and asked his advice, and he'd told her what to say.

"Here we are," Vyner said, coming into the room with a drink tray. He handed one of the cups to her. "And I have this, too, fresh from the fax machine."

He slid a manila folder across the table. "That's your deal. The District Attorney will give you one hour to accept it, which is ridiculously generous if you ask me."

"May I call Charles?"

"If he can get here quickly enough to look at that," he said, pointing to the folder, "be my guest. You're not a suspect in the arson, and the DA really wants to see what you have on that drive. Go for it."

Mary stepped out and placed the call.

* * *

Charles hung up the phone and turned to Elsie.

"That was Mary. Vyner has gotten her a deal."

"Wait … I thought she wasn't going to be charged for the fire?" Elsie was clearly confused, and then she remembered something Charles said the night before. "Wait a minute …"

But he held up a hand, effectively cutting her off. "She wants to know if we can go down and meet her, and I can look over the deal, make sure there are no loopholes."

" _We?"_

He nodded. "She wants you there, too. Said if she's going to tell her story, she's only doing it once. For now, anyhow."

"But her parents -"

"Don't have time to get here. Please, Elsie. Just … just come. For me?"

She sighed. "Do I have time to shower?"

"Alone?" he smirked. "Sure."

* * *

They pulled up in front of the police station thirty-five minutes later. Charles helped Elsie out of the car and took her hand as they headed in.

"Ms. Hughes? Nice to see you," Vyner said, tipping his head to her.

"Likewise, Chief. How come you're handling this?" Elsie asked bluntly. "Why not task it out to Willis?"

"He's at the fire scene with the inspector," Vyner replied, indicating the empty chairs. "Is this alright?"

Elsie reached for the sturdier of the chairs and nodded. "Fine, thanks."

Charles and Elsie moved the chairs over by Mary, who stood to give her uncle a hug. Elsie reached out to grasp her hand, and shuddered at how cold Mary's fingers were.

"Thank you for coming," Mary said to her. Elsie noted she was trembling, and she didn't think it was just from the cold temperature of the room.

"Have you slept?" Elsie asked softly. "Eaten?"

"I have," Mary nodded. "Slept six hours, ate a sandwich."

She took her seat and handed the agreement paperwork to Charles, who reached for his breast pocket to remove his reading glasses … and then remembered he'd left them at home.

"Here," Elsie chuckled, reaching into her purse and handing him hers. "I should keep a spare pair in here for you - brown, maybe," and she smiled when she heard Mary's laugh.

"Oh, I don't know, Elsie. The purple suits him, I think."

"Ha, bloody ha," Charles muttered, donning her spectacles and looking over the file. He scanned the deal, read everything through twice.

"Looks good, Mary," he told her. "I'd sign it."

"So she pleads guilty to the vehicular manslaughter," Vyner reviewed, ignoring Elsie's gasp, "and serves five years' probation in exchange for turning in evidence on her husband. Obviously it won't matter where he's concerned if he's dead," he continued bluntly, "but Mary here assures me that there's information on that flash drive about plenty of other crimes that we _can_ prosecute, things that directly affect residents of Misty Cove."

"You won't be able to go home," Charles said to her quietly. "You'll need to remain here. Not in Misty Cove if you choose not to, but you can't leave the county."

"That's fine," Mary said, nodding. "I wouldn't have gone home, I don't think. Not now … not anymore. There's really nothing left for me there."

"Woah," Elsie managed, her hand in the air. "Will someone please tell me what the hell this is all about?"

"That's why you're here," Mary said. She looked at Vyner and held out her hand for his pen, which she used to sign and date the form.

He placed a voice recorder on the table and pushed _record,_ and once again, Mary Crawley told the tale of that horrible night that tied her to Richard Carlisle for what she'd feared would be the rest of her life.

As she spoke, Elsie was completely stunned. When Mary got to the bit about the car crash, Elsie reached over and took Mary's hand in hers but remained silent, her bitten lip the only sign that she was emotionally overwhelmed by what she was hearing. She was glad Charles was seated down the table, too, as if they could buoy Mary between them if she faltered.

"You drove away? Just like that?" Vyner said.

"Just like that," Mary said, her jaw set. "And I've been paying for it ever since."

"My God," Elsie murmured.

Mary finished her story, and Vyner shut off the recorder. He looked at Charles and said, "It was officially determined that the fire at the office was, indeed, arson. Started in the office, near all of the paper and chemicals, and spread from there. The fire escape was also set on fire, so whoever did this most definitely didn't want anyone getting out alive. Looks like they expected Carlisle to be up there." He looked at Mary. "And maybe you, too?"

Mary just shrugged, but Elsie noticed that her hand started trembling again.

"And there are no leads at all?" Charles asked.

"Not yet," Vyner said, lips pursed. "The ME is examining the bodies now, running DNA and other tests. The main factor being determined is whether or not they were alive at the time of the fire. If not, then your niece here isn't out of the woods yet. The deal doesn't extend to murder charges if she killed her husband."

"And the woman?" Mary asked quietly, ignoring his ridiculous insinuation. "You've no idea who she might be?"

She saw Vyner look at Elsie, then back at the table.

"You _do_ know who she is!" Mary gasped. "Or at least, you think you might?"

"It's possible that we do," Elsie said quietly. "Tommy Barrow came to our house last night. His mother never made it home yesterday evening."

Mary whipped her head around and looked at Charles. "She had a file," she whispered, and he nodded.

"Sorry?" Vyner asked.

Mary dropped the flash drive onto the table and pushed it over to him.

"Here," she said. "It's all on here. My story ... and everyone else's."

"How many?" Vyner asked.

"Almost fifty," she replied. "And they're all in Misty Cove."

"All being blackmailed?"

"No," she said, "but most, I'd wager. But Mrs. Barrow was."

"And you had no idea about any of it until recently? How is that even possible?"

"I suspected, ever since last autumn," Mary admitted. "But I didn't _know_ until he threatened Elsie's sister at a family gathering. I dug around for information, wanted to know how he even _knew_ about Elsie's having a sister. I didn't know - I don't think most people in Misty Cove know."

"No," Elsie confirmed, "they don't."

Vyner looked at her. "Were _you_ being blackmailed?" he asked.

"No," Elsie insisted, "but I'm honestly not sure why. Maybe because he knew I'd turn him in." She briefly explained the story of Becky, and Vyner took a couple of notes.

"Mind if I call the home and talk to your sister?" he asked.

"I do, actually," Elsie replied, an edge to her voice that wasn't there before. "Becky is in no fit condition to be interrogated by a police officer. You can't anyhow, not alone; I'm her legal guardian, and I'd need to be present."

"We'll see about that," Vyner muttered. He let it drop though, and stood, the others following suit. "You're free to go for now, Mrs. Carlisle. I'll call you once we've seen what's on this," he added, holding up the flash drive.

"I can't wait," Mary muttered coldly. She looked at Charles and Elsie. "I'm ready to go home."

* * *

Elsie and Charles arrived back at the farm at lunchtime.

"Well," Elsie said as she opened the front door. "I can see why she wouldn't want to tell _that_ story over and over again."

"Hm," he hummed in reply, his mind still back at the station.

"Come on," Elsie coaxed him, pulling him to the kitchen. "You're going to drop that if you aren't careful."

They had stopped for lunch on the way back to the house and picked up a pizza. Charles set it on the counter and grabbed two plates from the cupboard; Elsie fed Max, and then they sat down beside Charles.

They ate in silence, mulling over how the morning had gone. Elsie tried to clear her head, tried to make sense of what she could and then file it away for another time.

She wasn't really paying attention when Charles cleaned up the dishes, but she snapped back to the present when he took her hand and helped her out of her chair.

"Come on. I believe I had plans for this day."

"Rather pushy, aren't you, Mr. Carson?" she teased.

"Yes," he admitted, peeking at his watch. "I have three hours to spend with you before I have to fetch Daisy."

"Three hours ... Whatever shall we do?"

"That depends. How are you feeling?"

"Extremely well, I think."

"I see," he said, kissing the inside of her wrist. "Well, in that case, do you want to go out somewhere?"

"Not particularly."

"Hm. Board games? Or we could spend more time planning for the wedding. And you probably need to review the schedule for the barn …"

"Charlie …" she warned, licking her lips.

"What?" he asked innocently.

She moved forward to stand flush against him and pulled his face down for a searing kiss.

"Perhaps you can just stop talking and take me to bed?"

He laughed and reached down to kiss her neck.

"I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Phyllis Baxter slammed the phone down in its cradle and swore. She sat back in her chair and twiddled her pen between her thumb and forefinger as she scanned the paperwork in front of her, trying to make sense of the conversation she'd just had - before she'd been hung up on, anyhow.

Bits and pieces of it kept coming back to her … _Not my real son … whore of a mother … new life … not coming back … let the boy fend for himself …_ _she got what was coming to her ..._

"Phyllis?"

Joseph's soft voice came from the doorway and she turned abruptly to face him.

"Hey, what's this?" he said quietly as he reached for a Kleenex and handed it to her, and she realized as he moved to close her office door that she was crying.

"I can't tell you, I'm afraid," she said with a half-laugh, half-hiccup. "But you'll find out soon enough. By tomorrow, I think almost _everyone_ will know."

Joseph was pretty sure he _already_ knew what had his favorite girl this upset on a Tuesday afternoon, but he kept it to himself for now. The rumor mill was already running rampant, Sarah was a no-show at school today, and the visit from the police chief had only made things worse.

"How about dinner tonight?" he said aloud. "My place. The weather's been fine, and I've got some beautiful steaks that we can toss on the grill. Deal?"

She looked up at him gratefully and nodded as she rose from the chair.

"Deal. And … Joseph?"

"Yes?"

She leaned forward and kissed him chastely on the lips.

"Thank you."

He drew her into his arms and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Anytime."

* * *

Elsie heard Max bark as the mail was delivered. She quickly finished brushing her hair and put it up in a loose bun, then made her way out to the front step. She pulled a flyer and what looked like some junk mail from the box, then headed back in to pour herself a cup of tea before sitting down to look through the grocery ad.

As she tossed the items on the table, her eyes fell on a strange-looking, light blue envelope. Curious, she picked it up; the writing was somewhat familiar, but she didn't know why. She slipped her finger under the flap and tore it open, vaguely aware of the sound of the Volvo coming down the drive, carrying Charles and Daisy home for the afternoon.

Elsie pulled out the note and began to read it, extremely glad that she'd chosen to sit down first. She scanned the words two times, then another, and abruptly got up and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she emptied the entire contents of her stomach.

"Elsie?" Charles called, coming into the house. "Anna's here, I let Daisy stay out there with her. Els?"

She heard him coming down the hall as she flushed the toilet. "In here," she called as she stood up again. She rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth quickly.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked. "Were you ill?"

"Yes," she said, "but I'm alright now. It was the shock, I think," she added, pushing past him and heading back to the dining table where she retrieved the note. "From this. Here," she said, handing the paper to him. "And sit down before you read it."

He sat on the sofa and took the note from her, a wary look on his face. She sat next to him and leaned over a bit, laying her head on his shoulder as he read but keeping her eyes shut so that she wouldn't see the words again. It didn't help much; the hideous words were still imprinted on her mind's eye.

Charles's eyes widened as he scanned the letter quickly, and his grip on the paper's edge tightened as it crinkled between his fingers. He went back over it again, more slowly, taking in every word ...

 _Well, well, well._

 _Elsie Hughes. Little Miss Perfect. I guess you think you've got it all now. Perfect girl, perfect man. Perfect home._

 _Perfect sister. Except she's not, is she? Ahh, but you don't KNOW, do you? You don't know that I know all about you. About HER. I know about your SECRETS. Because we all have secrets, don't we? All. Of. Us._

 _And I know yours. Covering up your sister's SHAME, because Becky was a little SLUT, wasn't she? Coming on to him like that, MAKING him do what he did. And then trying to SHUT HIM UP. And YOU trying to shut him up. Making her look pathetic instead of admitting it, admitting what she did, of how she tried to seduce him. And then she LIED about it, about it all, and SHE attacked HIM!_

 _And now he's paying for it. And so am I. But not you - ohhh, no. Because Richard was too much of a fucking COWARD to take care of you. And his stupid sister was useless, wasn't she? Of course she was._

 _You'd better watch out … Because I'm coming back for you._

 _S_

"What the _fuck_ is the matter with that woman?" Charles growled, and Elsie felt his hand tremble as he laid it on her leg. "This is going to the police station _now,_ Elsie."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not yet. I can't go back there today. Daisy's home, we should stay here."

"I presume this is from Sarah? 'S?' It has to be her, Els. But what the -"

"You saw it," she whispered, tears pouring down her cheeks. "She said - she _insinuated_ \- that Becky … that my precious, innocent, beautiful Becky … But she didn't. She _couldn't_ have."

"Els?" Damn it, but he didn't want to ask. "Did Sarah's brother … did he try to …"

"I don't know," she whispered. "When I showed up that day, Becky was curled up in a fetal position and rocking back and forth on the floor. She wouldn't speak to me - I thought it was because she was afraid of what she'd done." She twisted her hands in her lap. "I should have asked. I should have _known,_ Charlie," she whispered.

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her face. "No," he soothed her. "No … There's no way you could have known this. You had no reason to suspect." He picked up the letter, his hand still trembling in his fury. "This is a lie; it _has_ to be. I refuse to believe that your sister, that _our Becky,_ could do anything remotely close to what this hints at."

"But why say it?" she whispered.

"Perhaps it's what he told her? Perhaps it was her brother's story, and she just believed him. Perhaps she's a frigging _lunatic?_ Who knows?"

"Well, she's not getting away with this. I didn't touch the middle of the paper, and neither did you. Maybe they can find her fingerprints on it or something." She took it back from him. "Damn her!" she shouted.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

 _Oh, you've got to be kidding me. I cannot take much more drama today,_ Elsie thought, pressing the heel of her hand against her forehead. _This had better be good news._

She carefully tucked the letter away again, and Charles opened the door to …

"Phyllis?"

"May I come in?" Phyllis asked quietly. "Is Elsie here?"

"Of course," he said, moving back to let her in. "It's lovely of you stop by."

"Phyllis, can I get you some tea?" Elsie asked, her voice a bit shaky.

She nodded, and then she took in her friend's appearance.

"Elsie? Oh, I'm sorry. Are you feeling alright? You don't look so well. I'd come back later if I could."

"Oh, no, it's … Well, I won't lie to you. It's not 'nothing,' but it's nothing I can deal with at the moment."

She set three cups of tea and some biscuits on the table, suddenly hungry after having gotten sick earlier.

"How's school?" she asked Phyllis.

"Fine, but Sarah O'Brien didn't show up today. She called out yesterday, but today was a mystery, so that was a scramble for poor Edith."

Elsie blanched. "She didn't show up?"

"No." Phyllis looked at Elsie curiously, wondering what she was missing, but decided to let it slide. She had more important things to discuss at the moment than Sarah O'Brien. She spared a moment to wish Charles weren't home, but there was nothing to be done about it.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush, Elsie. I'm not here just to visit, but I really wish I were."

"Is it Tommy?" she whispered. "Have they found his mother … _identified_ her?"

Phyllis sighed. "Yes ... and no. Yes, it's about Tommy, but no, they've not identified one of the victims as his mother - at least, not to my knowledge."

"Alright." Elsie furrowed her brow at Charles, but he was watching Phyllis, waiting for her to tell them whatever she'd come over to discuss.

"I managed to contact Mr. Barrow today. It took a while, but someone managed to track him down for me from a phone number that I got from the dock manager up here."

"He's still in North Carolina?"

"He is." She paused and took a sip of her tea. "Technically, I shouldn't be telling you this with Charles present, but it's not going to matter soon anyhow."

"I can leave if you need me to," he suggested, but Phyllis shook her head.

"No, it's fine."

"So, is he coming back up? Oh, Phyllis, he's not taking Tommy away, is he?" Elsie was horrified at the prospect, quite able to imagine what life would be like for Tommy with only his father around, removed from everyone he knew and cared about in Misty Cove and dealing with his mother's probable death on top of it all. She started to shiver slightly, and Charles reached for her hand under the table.

"No, he's not. In fact … well, there's no easy way to say this. He claims he is not Tommy's real father."

" _What?"_

"He swears it, says he has a paternity form to prove it, filed somewhere at the Barrow house. He also had other things to say, things that I'm not sure I believe or not."

"Let me guess - his wife was being blackmailed because of it?"

Phyllis's head shot up. "How could you possibly have known that?" she whispered.

"Long story," said Charles. "What, exactly, did he say?"

"He claims that his wife was being blackmailed by her … well, by her _brother."_

Charles felt his head starting to spin, and Elsie winced before he realized how tightly he'd been squeezing her hand.

"Sorry, love," he muttered. "Wait … Mr. Barrow claims that his wife and Richard Carlisle were _siblings?"_

"He does," she nodded slowly. _Of course they know ... of course_. "I'm not going to insult you both by asking how you knew _he_ was the blackmailer."

"Thank you," Elsie said quietly. "But Phyllis, that means …"

"It means that, technically, Mary Carlisle is Tommy's aunt, yes. And in a perfect world, we'd have identified what really happened to Laura Barrow already, and Tommy would be able to live with Mary, and everything would be fine. Or he'd be able to stay permanently with the Kents. Or any number of things. But we know that's not how this works.

"Assuming the bodies in the fire do, indeed, belong to Laura Barrow and Richard Carlisle, Mary would be in no fit state to take in Tommy even if this wild accusation were true - which I seriously doubt at this point. The man sounded completely crazy on the phone."

"Was he drunk?" Elsie asked, thinking back to things Tommy had said in the past.

"No," Phyllis said slowly, her brow creased as she thought back. "I don't think so, just … well, nasty."

"And why can't he stay with the Kents?" Charles asked. "He's there now, and it's fine. Mrs. Kent said to us that she'd be able to keep him for a few days, no problem."

"That's presuming Tommy's parents are alive and present. But if his mother is dead, and if the man he believed to be his father is not his _actual_ father, then Tommy is considered a ward of the State of Maine, and must be remanded to a foster care placement home as soon as possible."

"But surely there must be some foster families in Misty Cove, even if it is a small town?"

Phyllis nodded. "There are three, actually. Two of them have children currently assigned. The third is … well, we've not placed children there before."

"Oh, no," Charles murmured. "Are they now unfit, or is there a problem? I know sometimes people don't want teenagers."

"No, it's not that," Phyllis hedged, playing with her fingernail and resolutely not looking at either Charles or Elsie.

"I don't understand," Charles said, shaking his head. "If there's an open home out there, and it's a viable option, then why do you seem concerned? Who is it?"

Elsie spoke up then, looking guiltily at Charles as she squeezed his hand.

"It's me," she whispered. "The other qualified foster parent in Misty Cove is _me,_ Charles. That's why Phyllis is here."

* * *

 ***Honest to goodness advice from a chiropractor, regardless of whether or not one's back is broken.**

 **A review would make my day, as I love hearing from you all! Thanks for the reviews you've already left as well as reblogs, PMs, and general support for this crazy ride of a story! x**


	40. The Thistle Reborn

**A/N: This is a VERY important, action-free, angst- and feels-filled chapter ... that was supposed to not happen here. What can I say? It happened here.**

 **Thanks again for all the reviews; it is obviously impossible to please all of the people all of the time, and I'm sure I will disappoint a fair few before this is all said and done, but I love all of your comments and truly appreciate the time you take to leave them. xxx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _Previously …_

" _I don't understand," Charles said, shaking his head. "If there's an open home out there, and it's a viable option, then why do you seem concerned? Who is it?"_

 _Elsie spoke up then, looking guiltily at Charles as she squeezed his hand._

" _It's me," she whispered. "The other certified foster parent in Misty Cove is me, Charles. That's why Phyllis is here."_

His jaw dropped and he just stared at his fiancée. "I'm sorry … You're a foster parent?"

"Technically, yes. Sort of. I went through the training years ago when I first moved here. There was a shortage of foster families in the area, and … well. So I did it, I got the training, and then there was just never a placement need. Over the years we've had several more families become certified; some stayed on the list and some were removed. But we are a small community. After a while I kind of forgot about it … well, most of the time, anyhow," she said, looking down at her hands.

"You forgot. You _forgot?_ How does one _forget_ this, Elsie?"

"The certification has to be updated periodically," Phyllis supplied. "Renewed. Elsie never did that, so she's currently on a sort of 'inactive' list. It's not difficult to renew, though, and that's why I'm here."

"So it's not already decided that Tommy would stay here?"

Elsie turned sharply to face him. "But he _could,_ Charlie. If he needs a home, then I just do the recertification hours and he can be here."

"And I'd have to do it too, I presume. Or does that not matter?"

Phyllis sensed the growing tension between them; she pushed the chair back and stood, Charles and Elsie following suit.

"You two need some time to talk about this - calmly, and rationally," she added, giving them each a pointed look. "I know you've had a hell of a time of it these past couple of days, and I'd have spared you this if I could. But I need you to sort it; if that _was_ Laura Barrow who perished in that fire, you know Tommy has to be my first priority."

"We understand," Elsie replied, standing and moving around the table to give her friend a hug. "Thank you."

"Call me," Phyllis said. She shot an apologetic look at Charles, who just nodded at her, a dazed look on his face. "I think I'd like to hang around for a few minutes, chat with Daisy while she does her barn chores. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Elsie replied, appreciating the effort to keep Daisy out of the house while she and Charles had their … conversation.

Charles watched Phyllis walk out the front door, and then slowly turned his head in Elsie's direction. She remained standing, moving to the opposite side of the breakfast counter to put some physical distance between them; he remained by his seat at the table. They stared at one another for a moment, the tension growing by the second.

" _How_ could you _never_ have brought this up?" he asked. "How, over the course of the past eight months, did this _never_ come up?" The volume of his voice was rising, but he couldn't seem to control it. "People don't _forget_ that they've signed up to possibly take in a _child,_ Elsie!"

She immediately went on the defensive and took a deep, steadying breath to calm herself. "I didn't mention it because it never seemed to be possible that Phyllis would come knocking on my door, Charles. Someone else must have dropped out, because there used to be _four_ homes - myself and three others - and I know for a fact that only two of them have children living there already."

"It doesn't _matter_ how many potential homes there are, Elsie! It matters that you never told me! How could you do that? We've discussed having children of our own! How did this not come up?" he repeated.

"I don't know what to tell you, Charlie," she whispered.

"The truth would be good."

She pursed her lips tightly, her nostrils flaring as her anger grew. "I _did_ forget about it, after a while. It seemed a non-issue, particularly after I had my fall. Obviously I was in no condition to care for another child. You'd just moved in with Daisy; I had to recuperate. My license is out-of-date, and in all the years I've been here I never once received a call to take in a child!"

"It didn't occur to you that _Tommy_ might need a place?!" he bellowed.

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Charlie, I didn't realize his father would _disown_ him!" She felt the tears pricking her eyes and willed them to stop, tried to stuff her anger back down inside of her in case Daisy came back into the house, but she couldn't quite manage it. "How could I have known that man wasn't his real father, if that's even true?"

Charles watched as she turned away and stormed off down the hall.

"Don't turn your back on me, Elsie! We need to finish this conversation!"

She whipped around from where she stood in the bedroom doorway, and her voice dropped to a low near-growl. "This isn't a _conversation,_ Charles, it's a goddamned attack. I'm _not_ going to stand there and be shouted at - not by you, or anyone else. Those days are done for me, and _you know that."_ She turned her back on him again and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her just before she burst into hurt, angry tears.

The worst part of it all, she knew, was that she _had_ suspected once that perhaps Mr. Barrow wasn't really Tommy's father; hadn't Daisy said something about that, some bit of gossip that the other students were batting about? And she'd meant to ask Phyllis about it, but then it had slipped her mind.

 _My God, what a frigging journey this day has become ..._ She looked at the bed and shook her head, the sweetness of the afternoon they'd spent in it seeming like it was weeks ago now.

Elsie knew she was wrong to have never mentioned the whole foster parent thing, but she had just always assumed it wouldn't matter. It had been right after she'd moved to Misty Cove that she'd gone through the class; she'd been approved and certified … and had waited, then waited some more, for nothing. And who could complain that there weren't children who needed a foster home? Not Elsie, that's for sure.

And then she suddenly had Charles and Daisy to look out for, and the desire to dig her heels in and renew her certification was just something that didn't seem like a good idea anymore. And a few months later, she and Charles were engaged. They had discussed how they'd welcome a baby if they were blessed in that way, but they'd decided to just let nature take its course, accepting that a pregnancy just wasn't likely to happen. Elsie had decided she was fine with all that - and she _was_ \- because Daisy was everything she'd wanted and more.

The last thing Elsie had wanted to do after settling all of that with Charles was to throw out the idea that, for a long while, she'd considered the possibility of someday adopting a child of her own, that she'd let her license run out and _'Oh, would you mind if I just renewed that so we can take in another child?'_ She couldn't have Charles thinking that being Daisy's stepmother wouldn't be enough for her, and so she'd planned to just let her expired certification slide by the wayside unmentioned ... never figuring that Phyllis would come knocking on her door and throwing it all out in the open.

As she sat and thought it through, Elsie resolved that she would accept responsibility for having deceived him in some small way, for having kept the foster parent information from him. She knew she had to try to make things better, but for now she just needed some time to calm down, to separate the issue of her not confiding in him from the issue of how he'd reacted.

His anger had been understandable, but frightening; it was a side of him she'd never truly seen - not directed at her, anyway. She'd come so far to leave her father and Joe behind, all those years of difficulty, discomfort, and fear. She knew Charles would never raise a hand to her like her father had done, would never demand things of her in the way that Joe had as they neared the end of their marriage; yet when Charles raised his voice to her she was nine years old again and being whipped with the switch in her bedroom … or thirty-two, being blamed for slipping on the stairs and losing her baby. It was something she'd have to deal with, something she thought she already _had_ dealt with, to be honest … and she now realized that it wasn't a problem that was completely independent of Charles as she'd once believed it to be; her healing would have to happen in front of him, because that was how marriage worked.

She knew that, from Charles's point of view, this entire argument happened because he suspected that she didn't trust him as much as she'd claimed to before. She knew she'd hurt him, and she knew she'd have to go out there and apologize … make it better, somehow.

 _And hopefully he accepts your apology, girl. If he doesn't, then Tommy will likely be leaving Misty Cove for good._

She needed to sit for a few more minutes, swallow her pride, and then march back out of the bedroom and do just that.

* * *

"Papa?"

Charles turned to the living room area and saw Daisy standing there, her coat half off as she stared at him open-mouthed.

"Hello, petal," he said softly, moving over to where she stood.

"Why are you and Elsie fighting? What did you do?" She looked accusingly at him, and it was like a slap in the face. But, as upset as he was, he'd not say anything to Daisy about it. She was astute and observant, but she was still a child.

"It's a long story, Daisy, and I can't really explain it to you."

But she was not to be deterred. He reached out to hug her but she took a step back.

"Try," she demanded.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," he said softly.

"I know."

He breathed deeply, tapping his fingers against his thumb once again. "She should have told me something and she didn't," he managed.

"Did she lie to you?"

"Well, no, not exactly. It was just something I wish I'd known. And I was … disappointed, I think. And it upset me."

"Was it important, Papa? Whatever she didn't tell you, does it matter?"

He thought about that for a minute. "She didn't think it would matter, but it turns out that now it might matter a great deal."

"But she didn't know that before, or she would have told you?"

He closed his eyes briefly and nodded, feeling dreadfully ashamed of how he'd flown off the handle. "Yes, she probably would have."

He opened his eyes to see her looking at him expectantly, and he flashed back to the last time he and Elsie had argued: the day she'd presented him with tickets to London for his birthday, and he'd gotten upset about the extravagance of it all. He remembered Daisy's advice to him then, and imagined it must be the same now …

 _Fix it._

"Do you have homework?"

She nodded.

"Alright," he sighed, pointing to the sunroom. "You sit in the sunroom with Max and get that done, and I'll go and apologize."

She smiled at him. "Good."

* * *

Elsie jumped a bit, startled, when she heard his knock.

"Come in," she said, her voice muffled.

He breathed a sigh of relief and turned the knob, grateful she'd been willing to see him at all. He wouldn't have insisted, not if she'd needed more time; he wouldn't have been surprised, either. He walked in and saw her seated on the edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress as she stared out the window, her back to him.

The sheer fact that she refused to turn and face him broke his heart.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately in a soft rumble. He turned and closed the door, not wishing for their voices to carry down to Daisy.

She nodded; her back was still to him, but she said nothing.

Charles walked around the bed to stand before her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She was staring at the floor, and he reached to tilt her chin up, noting with a pang that she refused to allow her eyes to find his.

"I came in here to apologize, but I refuse to have this conversation with your back, Els."

Her eyes did flash up to meet his then, her surprise shining from within them.

She bit down on her lip - _hard_ \- and willed her emotions to remain in check. She had been so angry when she sat and thought back on their fight, but she felt only sadness and guilt now that he was standing right in front of her.

"I shouldn't have allowed my temper to control me like that." He paused. "But I don't think I was wrong to be upset, either."

"Perhaps not," she allowed. "And I _should_ have told you," she added, her tears springing forth again, "only … I was afraid to."

His brow furrowed, his prodigious eyebrows expressive in his confusion. "Why?"

"I didn't want you to think Daisy wouldn't be enough," she whispered, wiping at her face. "I didn't want you to think that I still wanted, still _needed_ … well, _more._ Because it _is_ enough, getting to be Daisy's parent, and I don't want you ever to think that the two of you don't complete my life."

He walked over to the foot of the bed and climbed up on it, scooting up behind Elsie and spreading his legs so that they surrounded her. He wrapped his arms around her body gently and tugged slightly; she leaned back against him, laying her arms over his.

Elsie sighed as she leaned back.

"I feel so safe when you do this," she murmured.

"Oh, Elsie. You should _always_ feel safe with me. I'm not your father, and I'm not Joe."

"I know that," she said. "And I also know that I have a temper, and I'm stubborn, and I've gotten rather independent as I've gotten older."

"As have I," he admitted. "Perhaps more than I thought. But I need to feel that you _trust_ me, Els. That you trust me to support you, and that you'll trust that if something upsets me, I'll not take it out on you."

She blew a sigh out forcefully, struggling to find a way to explain what she was thinking; he was patient, holding her until she worked it out and was willing to speak.

"I feel as though I'm getting so much out of this relationship, Charles, and that I'm giving you very little in return."

 _There,_ she thought, _you've said it. Because that's really the problem ... never feeling like you give_ _ **enough.**_

"Are you mad?" he whispered into her hair. "Are you absolutely, positively mad?"

She huffed out a laugh. "Probably," she said, sniffling. "But I can't help if that's how I feel."

"My God, Elsie. You give me more than anyone else has ever given me in my entire life! You care about the things that make me who I _am._ You know me better than anyone else in my life, and have known me for the least amount of time!"

He shifted and moved once again so that he could sit beside her, reaching around to cup her cheek and leaning in to kiss her softly. When he broke away he felt her tears on his cheeks, and he continued in a soft, but clear, voice.

"You see straight inside of my heart with those beautiful blue eyes of yours. And when _you_ feel inadequate in this relationship, then _my_ heart begins to shatter. Because of you, my life - and _Daisy's_ life - are complete in a way that they never were before, not even with Alice. It's perhaps the biggest reason I want to marry you so badly; it's quite selfish of me, but I don't ever want to feel incomplete again … and I want to be able to complete _your_ life, too. But you have to give me that chance."

Elsie just broke down and sobbed in his arms. She had no words that could possibly be an adequate reply to that, and she knew it. He wrapped her more tightly in his embrace, and held her as her tears soaked his shirt; he rubbed his hands up and down her arms and her back, placing soft kisses to her temple as she rid herself of what he suspected were years of pent-up emotions.

She finally lifted her head and sniffed loudly; he handed her a handkerchief into which she quite unceremoniously blew her nose.

"I do want to give you that chance," she said, her throat absolutely raw from crying. "I really do. I think … I think I have issues trusting people, and I need to get past that. I grew up not being able to trust anyone but myself, Charles. And then I met Joe, and I fell in love with him and gave him my life, turned myself over to him - along with Becky - and _trusted_ him … and look where that got me," she said harshly. "Sometimes I wonder if I'd have been better off never having met him."

"Elsie, you don't really believe that - I know that _I_ don't. You've said it yourself: you had some wonderful years with Joe, and so did Becky."

"And then look what happened," she whispered.

"Elsie, you need to accept that you are not responsible for his death, nor for losing that baby. They were accidents, happenings of fate that had nothing to do with any actions by _you._ It had nothing to do with misplaced trust in Joe. But if you're going to trust _me,_ and do so completely, then you need to accept that what I'm saying is true. Trust doesn't lead to heartache, Elsie. I know sometimes it seems that it does, but that's not always how it works."

"I know. And I'm trying, Charles. I really am. But I need you to trust me, too. I need you to understand that my not telling you about this bloody foster parent situation wasn't because I didn't trust you, and it wasn't because I didn't think I could confide in you. I kept it from you because I thought it would hurt you. Obviously that was the wrong decision, but there it is."

"It _was_ the wrong decision," he said firmly. "I know that you're a caretaker, and that you've always had to be, and I love that you take care of me. But you can't keep things from me because you think I'll be hurt - not if they're things I really need to know. Being a foster parent is a _big thing,_ Elsie, and it may surprise you that I'm not against it at all. I just … well, I just wish I'd known."

She looked at him again. "You're not against it?"

He smiled gently. "No, of course not. Especially if it's Tommy. I'm quite fond of him, and I think he would do well here. I think we could truly help him. You said it once before: we know between us a bit about what it's like to be Tommy."

Elsie nodded. "I'm stubborn, Charles. And I'm rabidly independent, and I'm used to caring for others. I protect people, and I heal them. I hold their secrets, but I don't give up my own very easily at all. I'm … prickly," she said, remembering back, the corner of her mouth turning up in a faint smile as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Ah, yes … 'prickly'. Yes, and 'not terribly threatening,' - I'll give you that one, too. But you _are_ rather 'remarkable in appearance.'"

She laughed a bit and shook her head. "Resorting to flattery, I see."

He chose to ignore her. "After some time, the thistle becomes 'determined and dangerous,'" he added, "and inherently protective of everything she touches," he whispered, reaching up to brush her hair over her shoulder before resting his fingers behind her head. "And she has completely ensnared my heart, for better or worse."

"I'm not sorry," she said suddenly. "I mean, I'm sorry for _today,_ but -"

His lips came crashing down on hers, effectively ending her sentence.

After a few moments she pushed him back gently. "Did you really mean it? When you said you aren't against us taking Tommy in?"

"I did."

She nodded. "Alright. And I promise to try and tell you everything from now on - not that there are many things you don't know now."

"There are some," he said, knowing she still had so much she'd never shared about her childhood. He squeezed her hand in his. "You can tell me your secrets, Els. You're going to be my wife, and I love you. Those secrets you have? They'll be _safe_ with me. Just as I hope my secrets … the ones from my past, the hurtful things from when I was a child … will be safe with you."

"You know they will be," she whispered. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Elsie. Like no one ever has."

"I know," she smiled. "And I promise … I won't ever forget again."


	41. The Shaking of the Ground

**Mahoosive A/N at the end, too - sorry … stuff to say (brevity, as you know by now, is not my strong suit):**

 **That last chapter that came at me by surprise was, perhaps, the most highly reviewed chapter of this story. Thank you to everyone! I can assure you that the things brought up between Charles and Elsie in that argument are far from over, but I couldn't send them to bed angry or without some sort of understanding and comfort. A great deal of people have commented that these folks are mostly in character, and I appreciate that - it's my number one goal … It means, however, that we won't always be happy with their behavior. :) (And as one astute reviewer HAS pointed out, Charles is perhaps the most OoC of them all because of his effusive feelings. But that reluctance to change is still there. If I kept him as reluctant to discuss his feelings as he is in canon, well ... we wouldn't have much of a story.) :)  
**

 **To Teresagreen: I would love to reply to your reviews! If you have an account please PM me; if not, then please know I love your comments and questions. If you're on tumblr, please find me there and shoot me a message. x**

 **To lemacd: THANK YOU for the input regarding the passage I sent. I'm a stickler for detail, and I appreciate that you took the time to help me out.**

 **And to brenna-louise and chelsie-carson, my thanks for infinite amounts of help. Any problems you see here are most definitely due to my own carelessness.**

 **Here we go!**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Monday, April 6, 2015**_

Sarah woke at the bus station in Portland, Maine, stiff from having spent the night on the bench. Still, she knew it was better than spending the night in Misty Cove, and well worth the risk of having hitchhiked her way to the city. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch.

 _Six o'clock exactly,_ she noted with glee. _Perfect._

She tucked her hair underneath her hood and made her way to the ticket counter.

"One-way to Boston, please, on the seven o'clock," she said, controlling her brogue enough to sound perfectly American.

"Twenty-six fifty," the cashier replied, stifling a yawn as he checked a text on his phone.

She slid the cash across the counter and he tucked it in the drawer. Her ticket printed and he slid it to her.

"Have a nice trip," he said, glancing up briefly and giving her a wan smile.

"Thank you," Sarah answered, already looking down as she tucked the ticket into her backpack; she slung the bag over her shoulder and headed toward the restroom, figuring she had just enough time to use the loo and brush her teeth before grabbing a tea and heading out of Maine for good.

The ticket seller looked up and watched her walk away. She was the first person to thank him since the beginning of his shift. He almost wished he'd paid more attention to her, but all he saw as she walked away was the back of her long, blue coat.

* * *

 _ **Wednesday, April 8, 2015**_

Elsie watched from where she stood by the sink as Daisy took another helping of fruit salad and brought it back to the table.

"Hungry this morning?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," Daisy replied, looking up and smiling back as she saw her Papa come into the kitchen and place a kiss on Elsie's temple.

"Hey! Where's mine?" Daisy teased, and he laughed.

"You're all the way over there, petal, and she's _right here,"_ he answered, squeezing Elsie gently; she smiled up at him half-heartedly, but he'd take it. They'd managed to get themselves back to a good place last night after their argument, but they both knew that when old wounds were opened it took a while to heal again. Both accepted that, managing to fall asleep with a kiss and holding one another's hand, and the new day seemed to put a fresh perspective on it all.

Daisy pretended to pout at her Papa but she only managed to giggle instead; Charles poured his tea and sat beside her.

"I fixed it," he whispered into her ear. "Mostly."

"I know," she replied. "Good."

Elsie joined them, and Charles noted that she appeared to be moving about gingerly.

"A bit sore today?" he asked, and she raised an eyebrow at him as Daisy focused on cutting a large piece of melon.

"Yes, I rather overdid things yesterday, I think," she replied, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing … which caused him look resolutely into his teacup.

"Pity. You'll have to relax more today, I think."

"Yes," she sighed, and added in all seriousness, "I _do_ plan to. I need to phone Becky's home, talk to Mags about going down to meet with Becky's doctor. I think I also need to call Phyllis and set that stuff up … if you still don't mind?"

"I don't mind," he said with a tilt of his head, reassuring her. He pondered Phyllis for a moment. "She's a good friend, isn't she?"

"She is. She can keep her own counsel, but she's not afraid to speak up when she feels it's warranted."

"Obviously."

Daisy gobbled down the last of her fruit and left the table.

"Excuse me. Where do you think you're going?" Elsie asked. She pointed from Daisy's dish to the sink. "Nowhere without that dirty bowl and spoon, I imagine."

Daisy grabbed the items in question and brought them to the sink, where she rinsed them. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Thank you, Daisy," Elsie replied with a smile. "Go and brush your teeth then; you two have to be leaving in a few minutes."

"I know," Daisy said as she walked down the hall.

"Is it me, or is she a bit off this morning?" Elsie ventured. "Do you suppose she's worried about us?"

Charles took her hand in his and placed a kiss to her fingers. "No, not really," he said. "She made sure I 'fixed it' as she so eloquently describes it when I've put my foot in it and need to apologize to you."

"Keeping you in line, is she? Well, I do like that," she smiled at him. "And are we 'fixed' then, Mr. Carson?"

He looked at her quite seriously. "Almost," he whispered. "I do hope we will be soon, but we have quite a bit to sort through, I think, that's separate from the issue of what to do about Tommy."

She patted his hand. "Agreed, and I do mean for us to do that. I _am_ sorry."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, feeling her smile and lean her head toward him a bit more.

"Me, too," he murmured against her skin.

"Go on then," she chided softly, "or _you'll_ be the reason she's late for school."

* * *

The knock on Edith's door startled her. "Yes?"

"Um, good morning," the young woman before her said hesitantly. "The secretary sent me in. I'm Stephanie Barcellos, the new building sub … I think."

"Oh!" Edith exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. "I didn't expect you until tomorrow!"

"Yes, I know, but I was able to work it out to come up a bit early. I wanted to come and at least meet you and then spend the rest of the day trying to find a place to stay. It seems you have only one hotel in town, so I'm staying with a friend for the moment."

Edith laughed. "Yes, it's a rather small town, indeed, although that hotel _is_ a nice place. We've got a few folks who let rooms, too. But if you're looking for a less fancy hotel or motel, I can direct you to a few the next town over."

"Alright," Stephanie said gratefully.

"Please have a seat," Edith said, indicating the small table before her desk. "Can I offer you anything? There's a Keurig in the teacher's lounge …"

"No, no, I'm fine," Stephanie assured her as she sat.

"Alright, then," Edith smiled, taking her own seat. "It's a pleasure to meet you in person instead of just over the phone in an interview."

The younger woman laughed. "Likewise!"

"So, you said on the phone that you heard about the job from a friend?"

"Yes, well, I've been on the hunt for a job for quite a while now. There's absolutely nothing to be found at this time of year, and I'd planned to wait until the summer. But my best friend lives two towns over and saw the advertisement that you needed a building substitute here, so I applied. And then you called last week, so here I am."

"Well, today might just be your lucky day," Edith said. "And mine."

Stephanie narrowed her gaze for a moment, willing herself not to get too terribly excited. "How's that?"

"How would you like to take over a third-grade classroom _tomorrow?_ Indefinitely, but possibly as a long-term sub."*

Stephanie laughed, and then saw the look on Edith's face. "Wait … Are you serious?"

Edith nodded. "I'm completely serious. Our third-grade teacher seems to be … well, _missing_ at the moment _."_

"Oh!"

"Yes. Well, she told me last week she'd be out yesterday, but she's kind of a no-show today. She's not answering her phone, so -"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Edith, I - Oh! I'm so sorry," Phyllis said, backing out. "I'll come back in bit."

"No, Phyllis, come in," Edith said. "This is Stephanie Barcellos. I'm hoping she might be our new sub in grade three … assuming we need one."

"Pleased to meet you," Phyllis said, offering her hand to Stephanie. "Phyllis Baxter, School Guidance and Adjustment Counselor."

"It's a pleasure. Mrs. Pelham was just telling me about your odd situation."

"It's Edith, please," Edith said. "We don't stand on ceremony around here, I'm afraid - only the students call me Mrs. Pelham."

Stephanie smiled. "Alright, then."

"That situation is why I'm here," Phyllis said to Edith. "Well, sort of. But I just came from Joseph's room; it appears that Mr. Bruce just arrived. He said he'd be down in a moment to see you."

"Joseph Molesley is the other third-grade teacher," Edith explained to Stephanie. "And Mr. Bruce is our other building sub. We usually use him for the upper grades but I managed to fit him in for Sarah today. You'd be working directly with Joseph should you choose to accept your mission," she added with a smirk.

Stephanie took a deep breath. "Well, I'm up for just about anything. I really need a job, and there's not much to tie me back to home, I'm afraid."

Edith saw a sadness in the young woman's eyes and nodded. "Well," she said softly, "I can certainly relate to that. The position we need the sub for is Social Studies and English/Language Arts. You mentioned you'd focused your studies on those areas, is that right?"

"Yes, although I can get by fairly well in the other subjects, too."

"Excellent." Edith went to her file cabinet and pulled out a few papers.

"This is the paperwork you'll need to fill out if you'd like to work here - tax form, some bits about your identification, criminal records check. You can return it all to me and I'll get everything filed with the Town Clerk's office."

"Thank you," Stephanie said, taking them and flipping through them all. "I have a copy of my personnel file from the school I was working in previously," she added, pulling a file from her bag and handing it to Edith. "You can keep that if you need it; all the references are in there, and there's a copy of my CV, too."

"Excellent!"

Stephanie stood and shook Edith's hand. "I can start tomorrow, then? If you need me?"

"We'll need you," Phyllis supplied, nodding when Edith quirked an eyebrow her way.

"I guess we'll see you tomorrow," Edith said, and Stephanie smiled gratefully and nodded. "If you give me a minute to catch up with Phyllis, I'll get you the names of a few places you can check out if you need somewhere to stay."

"That would be wonderful," Stephanie said. "I'll just fill the paperwork out while I'm waiting, then. I am staying with my friend for the time being, but it's forty minutes away."

"Well, we can't have that," Edith smiled.

"Welcome to Misty Cove," Phyllis added. "You'll like it here, I think. All recent events aside, it's a lovely place to be."

 _Recent events?_ Stephanie thought.

Edith saw her confusion. "One of our town businesses burned down two nights ago, and two people were found dead inside," she said bluntly. "There's been an investigation, and the children have been nervous about it all."

"Well, then," Stephanie said understandingly, "it looks like I'd better plan a fun first-day activity, huh?"

"That," Edith said with a smile, "would be amazing."

Stephanie closed the door behind her and Phyllis plopped down in a chair at the table.

"We might have a problem," Phyllis said bluntly. "I just got off the phone with Elsie."

"Oh?"

"You'd better sit down," Phyllis added, and she waited for Edith to comply.

"Alright … I'm sitting."

Phyllis took a deep breath. "I called Tommy Barrow's father yesterday, after school," she began. "You'd already left, and I had to follow up on a few things before we talked, but now I think you need to be filled in."

"Alright," Edith said hesitantly. "What's this to do with Elsie?"

"I'll get there in a minute. So, Mr. Barrow claims he's not really Tommy's father. He _also_ claims that his wife was your brother-in-law's sister, and that Richard was blackmailing her about the fact that Tommy was fathered by another man."

" _What?!"_

"Not only that, he was quite clear about how he is relinquishing responsibility for Tommy's well-being, effective immediately, and he employed a few choice phrases that I can't repeat because they made me physically ill."

Edith sat back abruptly in her chair. "Shit," she said softly. "I always wondered about that."

"About Mrs. Barrow and Richard being siblings?" Phyllis asked, astonished.

"No, not that," Edith said. "That _is_ quite the shock, if it's even true at all. No, I meant about Tommy's parentage. There were rumors being bandied about once, regarding his father … I don't recall where they came from, but I chalked them up to some mean childhood retaliation from the children Tommy was picking on at the time. I don't know how the kids would ever even _know_ that, but it does lend a bit of credibility to the claim."

"Well, I'm more inclined to think it's just a very odd coincidence. Mr. Barrow did say that no one knew, and that he was sure he'd shocked me. They moved to town when his wife was pregnant, according to Elsie, and so I assume no one will ever know the biological father's true identity. But Mr. Barrow did hang around the local a lot - who knows what he may have said? And that brings me to the main issue we have here: if Laura Barrow did, indeed, perish in that fire - which is looking more and more likely because I cannot conceive of any world in which she'd have abandoned her son willingly - then Tommy Barrow is in need of a foster care placement."

"Oh, my God, I'd forgotten about that," Edith said. "Elsie, of course. Only ..."

"Yes," Phyllis nodded. "Elsie. Only it's not just Elsie now, which means we need to work very swiftly … and also very carefully."

"She gave up on the idea of adoption ages ago," Edith said sadly. "She let everything expire, didn't she?"

"She did. She can go online and do the course work to renew her certification … and Charles is willing to do the full training as well. Technically he hasn't changed his legal residency address to the farm yet, so that's sort of a 'don't ask, don't tell' loophole for the moment. I certainly won't be mentioning it until he's gone through the full training."

"Good," Edith nodded. "That's good. I wasn't sure that she'd told him about being a foster parent, actually."

"She hadn't, but please keep that to yourself. I'm only telling _you_ that because I know you two are close and because she said I could. But he knows now, although Daisy does not. Not yet, anyhow … not as of this morning."

"Got it," Edith nodded. "So, as far as we know, Richard Carlisle and Laura Barrow are the most likely people to have perished in that fire? Because I've got to tell you, I was worried one of them might be Sarah O'Brien. Where in the hell do you think she is? Any ideas?"

Phyllis licked her lips. "Elsie got a letter in the mail from her yesterday. Local postmark, meaning Sarah must have mailed it on Sunday or even yesterday - same day mail around here, always."

"She what? Why on Earth would Sarah send Elsie anything in the mail? She hates her!"

"Exactly. It was … well, _odd._ And frightening. And _threatening."_ She took a deep breath and forged ahead. "Edith, have you considered at all that perhaps the arsonist who burned down the newspaper may have been _Sarah?"_

Edith's eyes widened and a chill ran down her spine. "Oh, my God," she whispered, pressing her fingers to her lips. "Is that what you think?"

Phyllis nodded slowly. "Yes, actually … I do. Because I think a whole host of people besides Laura Barrow were being blackmailed by Richard, and I think Sarah may have been one of them. Don't ask me why I think that, but Chief Vyner has been told that as well. So we have a very precarious situation on our hands, Edith, and we need to play this very, very cautiously.

"If Tommy Barrow is essentially an orphan, he will need to be remanded to foster care. We have to hope and pray that it takes at least another day for Vyner to get DNA results back on the fire victims. Once he realizes that Laura Barrow died in the fire, and I'm convinced that she did, then I can drag my heels for maybe three days regarding having Tommy pulled from the Kents' place and remanded to the system. I have friends at Child and Family Services, and I could probably drag it out longer, but I know Vyner will demand that Tommy's father come to fetch him and I'll need to explain why he's not doing that."

"And he knows the rules, too. Poor Tommy," Edith said sadly.

"Exactly. So I can probably make that take a day, as long as Vyner doesn't insist on calling Mr. Barrow himself. I doubt he will, though … not if I'll do it for him."

Edith nodded.

"I think it'll take three days for Elsie to recertify," Phyllis continued. "The online course is thirty hours but it's self-guided; she can probably finish it in twenty-four, but that's still eight a day if she works like a dog. So what I need is your unofficial permission to take a couple of days processing all of Tommy's paperwork; otherwise, he gets sent out of town to the next registered home on the list about a day before Elsie can officially be approved to take Tommy in. Once her coursework is done she'll print a certificate, which I'll personally bring down to CFS myself in order to expedite the approval as an emergency placement."

Edith nodded immediately. "Do you what you have to do, Phyllis; in fact, if those DNA results come back sooner rather than later, and you have to process all of that paperwork from here in your office … perhaps you might be, ahem, _out sick?"_

Phyllis smiled. "I think my throat is scratchy, now that you mention it," she winked. "Edith? Thank you."

"No problem," Edith said. "We have to do right by that boy, and I do think that even Vyner would understand _that._ And believe me when I say this: if Tommy Barrow needs a home, well … you can't get much better than Charles and Elsie's, can you?"

* * *

Elsie spent all of Wednesday morning and the early afternoon working on her recertification course. She needed thirty hours total, but the self-paced, online program was moving along faster than she'd anticipated.

 _Six hours done today already,_ she sighed, reaching for her tea. _Thank goodness._

Her feelings were still a bit shaky after her discussion with Charles last night but sleeping with his hand in hers had certainly helped matters. She felt that they'd crossed some gaping chasm and had come out safely at the other side, and she knew that anything else they had to share with one another about their past would come about in time.

She got up from her chair and stretched, still sore despite having taken frequent breaks throughout the morning. Elsie knew she'd overdone it with Charles yesterday, but the reward had been so _wonderful._ She'd warned him that they certainly couldn't be that active _every_ day, but she felt it had been worth every ache and sore muscle that she had today to have been able to steal away those hours with him; after their argument last night, she was even happier that the earlier part of the day had served to reaffirm their closeness and love.

The phone rang, startling her from her musings.

"Hello?"

"Elsie?"

"Mary," she said, surprised. "Hello. How are you holding up?"

"Pretty well, all things considered," Mary said. "Listen, might I come over tonight? I tried Uncle Charlie but he didn't answer. I … I have some things I need to talk to you both about."

"No, he's out at the store and probably didn't hear his phone," she said. "And of course you can come over. Why don't you have dinner with us?"

Mary hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure, Mary," Elsie said firmly. "I'd not have invited you otherwise. How's five o'clock? It'll give you some time to visit with Daisy before we eat; she'll be thrilled to see you."

"Sounds good. See you then, Elsie - and thank you."

"Anytime," Elsie replied. She hung up and then opened her texting app.

 _Mary's joining us for dinner - can you pick up extra?_

It took him a while to reply, but after about five minutes she got one:

 _Wondered why she called. Sure thing. Got a cake from Beryl's place, too._

Elsie couldn't help but laugh.

 _Good - can't have us wasting away. ;) x_

* * *

Charles arrived home from the store just after two o'clock ... to find Elsie asleep in bed, the laptop open beside her. He moved to his chair by the bed and sat down gently before taking a few deep breaths to relax as he watched her doze. He'd have to leave in another forty-five minutes to get Daisy; otherwise, he just might have climbed in and fallen asleep beside Elsie.

He allowed the events from the last couple of weeks to wash over him, processing each in his mind before letting it go to make room for the next one.

It felt to him as though Elsie's PT had been _months_ ago instead of just two weeks previous. He smiled as he recalled her daily spats with Denker, but was pleased that Elsie had been so fired up; it had helped her to get control faster, to _feel in control_ over her own body, something he knew she'd been missing since falling from Star. It made him more aware than ever that she was a woman who needed to be in control of her life and that giving that control over to others had been very difficult for her, indeed.

 _And yet she did it for you,_ he reminded himself. _She gave herself over to you, and that's no small thing, Charlie ol' boy._

He moved through the images in his head that came after that: the ring, the ways in which he could help out at the farm, planning a holiday dinner and carrying it off. He thought back to how she'd relinquished control of the table settings in favor of organizing the meal, and how well they worked together to pull the afternoon off, how seamless it had been.

Anna and John, getting married - _that_ had been something. It had made him wish he and Elsie had chosen to do the same, and yet he knew she wanted a ceremony of sorts that Becky could be part of, something that Daisy could perhaps be part of … _And Tommy, now? How does that work?_

Tommy Barrow. Charles let his mind settle there for a bit, on that elephant that was residing in his mind. Mary's nephew, perhaps … _most likely._ Who'd have ever thought? Certainly not Charles, nor Elsie - he knew that she'd been stunned by the suggestion of it. Mary was in no place to care for a child, and Charles didn't even think she _wanted_ to be a parent, not really. He was pretty sure it wouldn't even be allowed now that she'd made a deal with the police and would be placed on official probation. He wasn't sure, but it seemed to Charles that someone with that kind of record wouldn't be seen as a fit foster placement.

 _And that leaves us,_ he thought. He freely admitted to himself that he was frightened about the idea of taking Tommy in, at least in some ways. It was Elsie who had the closer relationship with the boy, and Elsie who seemed to know what made Tommy tick. Charles had always had a strained relationship during the best of days with his own father, and it had gotten worse the older he'd gotten; eventually they'd arrived at a day where they no longer spoke at all.

 _So what on Earth makes you think you have anything to offer the boy, hm? You don't exactly know how to go about raising a young man, do you? Except, perhaps, what_ _ **not**_ _to do._

He remembered Elsie saying how, between them, they knew what it was like to be Tommy Barrow, and Charles wasn't sure now if that would actually serve him _well._ He and Elsie would have to address that, too; he knew some of her past, but not the details of exactly how it had been for her, and he wondered if having Tommy around permanently would even be a _good_ thing for her.

 _But we're going to go ahead with it,_ he thought. _Because it IS the right thing to do, to keep him here in a familiar place, among friends and what little he has, as opposed to making him abandon it all._

 _Unless he_ _ **wants**_ _to leave._

The thought hit him so suddenly that he gasped aloud. He wondered why he'd never considered it before, really. What if Tommy _didn't_ want to stay in Misty Cove? Would it be too much of a reminder? Would it be another way in which he and Elsie could relate to the boy, this need to abandon the place of bad memories in favor of a fresh start?

The feeling made him sad, and he was surprised by it … for, as uncomfortable as he was with the idea of taking Tommy in, as uncertain as he was that he'd be able to be a good father figure for the boy, the feeling that they'd lose him and perhaps never see him again was somehow worse.

"Charlie?" Elsie's sleepy voice sounded from across the bed, and he snapped his head up to see her, wiping his eyes as he realized they were a bit damp.

"Are you alright, love? What is it?" She patted the mattress beside her, beckoning him to join her.

He readily complied, climbing up and moving the laptop to the chair before tucking himself on his side and clasping her hand, resting their hands on her stomach and caressing the back of hers with his thumb.

"I'm not sure," he said. "I feel as though … I can't explain it, really. It's as though everything is in a state of … flux. Like a shaking of the ground; I can't get my footing before something else pops up."

Elsie watched him as she stared at some spot on the wall behind her.

"Charlie?" she asked softly. "What are you afraid of?"

He drew his eyes back to hers and shook his head. "I don't know. Not entirely. Mostly that I won't be a good father figure for Tommy. But I'm also afraid that I can't be there for Mary, not in the way she needs me to be. I worry that I'm ignoring Daisy because of everything, not spending enough time with her." He licked his lips, unsure … afraid. "And that I won't be a good enough husband to you," he whispered.

"Oh, Charlie," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. "You can't be in charge of us all, you know. It's not _your_ responsibility to see that everyone is as happy as can be."

"I know that," he admitted, "but I don't like it."

"But isn't it why we're a _team,_ you and I? Because when one of us stumbles and falls, the other can pick up the pieces, help us to heal and move on? And when one of us is afraid, the other can offer encouragement and support? This marriage we're going to have, this _family_ \- in whatever shape it ends up taking - is going to be hard work. Marriage _should_ be hard work, though, I think. It makes us appreciate it more."

She bit her lip, searching for the right words. "Sometimes I think we didn't come together in the right way, you and I. Not in the beginning," she clarified, seeing the worry written on his face, "but I feel as though you were thrown into this whole living arrangement out of a sense of obligation, of guilt … out of the knowledge that I needed caring for and that you had to be the chivalrous man and step up and provide it. And I don't mean that I wish you hadn't, but that it worries me that it rushed you in ways you'd not have rushed otherwise."

"It was a bit fast," he admitted. "I mean, we'd discussed living together, and I think we had an understanding that this is where we'd end up. But once we were staying here regularly, I suddenly felt like I wasn't cut out to handle it all. Not good enough to help here, with the farm … not cut out to be a nursemaid, either," he smirked. "But we've done alright, I realize that."

"I'd say we've done _more_ than alright," she said, smiling softly.

"But now … this entire thing with the fire, with the blackmail … Becky, Tommy, Mary …" he trailed off.

"You can't be everything for Mary, Charlie. She's an adult, one who needs to get back on her own two feet and make something of her life _herself._ And I know you want to fix it all up neatly with a tight bow for her, but you can't.

"That young woman is so _capable,_ Charlie, and so determined. She'll be alright. She needs you - _us,_ perhaps - to just be there in the background. She'll need your shoulder to cry on, but she needs to not be dependent on you for everything. She wasn't like that before you got here, I don't imagine."

"No, she wasn't. But when she was younger we were very, very close."

"Then _be_ close, but don't try to fix her life."

He nodded, knowing what she had to say was true.

"Now," she added, brushing his arm with her fingers, "about this 'not being a good enough husband' nonsense …"

He smiled sadly. "I _do_ worry about that - every day. I tried so hard to be a good husband the _last_ time, and it all went to hell anyway. I don't mean that this is the same at all, but … well, I can't explain it. But last night …" He captured her fingers in his hand. "I don't like it when I feel like we're not on the same side."

"We're different _people,_ Charles … and we can't _always_ agree. You can't go around being afraid you'll upset me, and I can't go around being afraid to trust you. We're still learning how to be together, you and I, in many ways."

"And here we are, rushing into marriage."

She raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather wait?"

"No, not at all," he replied. "Would you?"

Elsie shook her head. "Not on your life, buster."

"You're sure?"

"I cannot imagine living one day without you in my life," she said, her voice catching. "Knowing that, why would I ever not want to be your wife as soon as possible?"

"No one _has_ ever loved me like you," he said again. "I think it's taking me a while to accept that."

"Well," she said, tucking herself closer to him and placing a kiss to his chest, "you have a lifetime to get used to it."

* * *

Charles pulled the chicken from the oven and set it to rest on the stovetop as Elsie put the finishing touches on dessert.

"That looks beautiful," he murmured as he rested his hand on the small of her back.

"Thank you." She sprinkled the last few touches of chocolate on the top of the cream. "French silk - a bit of a time-consuming thing, but well worth it, I think."

"It's chocolate, isn't it?" he teased. "How's your back? You spent quite a long day staring at a computer."

"It's alright," she said, nodding. "A bit sore, but well worth the time spent."

"How many hours did you get in?"

"Eight and a half, I think, and then I gave up. But I am over a third of the way through. I'm a fast reader; it helps a lot," she said.

Charles tilted his head toward Daisy's room. "Should we interrupt them, tell them dinner's almost ready?"

"No. Wait until we've got it out on the table, I think. I'm guessing a little time spent with her favorite niece is doing Mary a world of good."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Marigold is her niece, too."

"I know. But Mary seems to have a special connection with Daisy - no doubt because she's _your_ child and not Edith's," she smirked. "And I don't mean anything negative by that."

She sighed and looked at Daisy's closed bedroom door. "I think Mary needs a bright spot like Daisy right about now."

"She probably does," he agreed, leaning in front of Elsie to kiss her sweetly. "Don't we all?"

She nodded slowly. "She said she has to talk to us, though. I'm guessing she has information for us, and I'm sure it's only going to confirm our suspicions. How do we tell Daisy about all this, Charles?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I know Mary won't discuss it in front of her. Maybe we can tell her in the morning? Only if the bodies _were_ identified, though. I don't want her worrying unnecessarily if it's someone she doesn't even know."

"You think we should tell her right before school? Is that such a good idea?"

"Better than waking her up later to do it," he reasoned. "If our suspicions are correct, if they're confirmed, I don't want her going to school not knowing … and I certainly don't want her finding out there."

"True," Elsie acknowledged. "Alright, you get the food set out, and I'll fetch the girls."

"Now you're talking," he replied, reaching a finger to swipe at the cream atop the pie.

But Elsie saw him out of the corner of her eye and swatted his hand away.

"Don't. Touch. It."

* * *

Daisy showered and headed to bed after dinner, with Charles tucking her in as Mary helped Elsie with the last of the dishes.

"Shouldn't you not be doing all of that?" Mary asked as Elsie reached to put away a glass in the cupboard.

"Probably not," she admitted, "but I don't think I can spend any more days lying down in that bed."

"Well, don't overdo it," Mary advised, "or you'll be stuck in that bed for _longer_ than you would be now, and Charlie will drive you crazy with the 'I told you so' routine."

Elsie laughed. "Tell me about it!"

"About what?" Charles asked as he came back into the kitchen. "Elsie Hughes! Don't you dare bend to put that baking dish away," he added, shooing her away from the cupboards. "You know better."

"So I hear," she grumbled, but she acquiesced and moved out of the kitchen, choosing to sit at the counter and watch them. "Daisy is sleeping?" she asked quietly.

"She will be soon," he said. "I suggest that we move our conversation down to the sun room, though. We can close the door and not disturb her. I left Max in there with her," he added to Elsie. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," she smiled. "I never see him anymore when she's in bed; he's always with her now. You left her door open a crack though, yes?"

Charles nodded.

"Good," she said. "Alright, you get the wine and Mary can bring the glasses; it's a bit chilly down there, I'll start the fire."

"Should you be doing that?" Mary asked.

"Gas stove," Elsie laughed. "Push-button start. I think your uncle might let me manage that."

Charles chose a bottle of wine and opened it, then he and Mary joined Elsie down in the sun room.

"Oh, this is lovely," Mary murmured, looking out the glass wall to the pond beyond. "What a beautiful view."

The moon had crested the treetops and its light was reflected in the pond's faint ripples.

"It is. I love being out here at night. It used to make me a bit nervous, truth be told, but now I just find it peaceful," Elsie said.

"Peaceful is good," Mary said sadly, nodding slowly.

Charles and Elsie exchanged a look as Mary continued to stare out.

 _Is she alright?_

 _I think so. Not sure._

Mary turned then, taking a seat by the stove. She took a sip of wine, then twisted the stem of the glass between her fingers as she looked in at the deep red liquid.

"It _was_ Richard," she whispered. "In the fire. DNA came back a few hours ago." She raised her head and looked at Elsie. "Just before I called you."

Elsie nodded. "I expected as much."

"And the woman?" Charles asked.

Mary nodded. "It was Laura Barrow. They got something from their house to test - a hairbrush or some such thing, I think. Vyner wouldn't tell me anything, but Detective Willis was rather helpful when I asked."

"Yes, he would be," Elsie said softly. "He's rather more … human."

Mary barked out a harsh laugh. "Yes, that's a good way to put it."

"And the other testing?"

"That will take longer," Mary said. "They're sending it out of state, I think, and it could take a couple of weeks. But the files that Richard had - if they can be believed, which I am sure they can - are all we need. The testing is a formality; it appears that Mrs. Barrow was, in fact, Richard's half-sister."

Charles exhaled loudly and sat back in his seat. "My God."

"He had a copy of her birth certificate scanned onto the flash drive," Mary added. "I never even saw that until I read it all before turning it over to Vyner … there was no hard copy that I ever saw. And I didn't want to mention it last night - it was too much. I can't imagine the document is a forgery, though - there's no reason why he'd bother with that at all. They had the same father, although her birth name was that of her mother. I'm not sure, but I'm guessing that her being in Misty Cove is what drew _him_ to the town. She'd been in the area most of her life. Used to be a bartender, ironically."

"And privy to half the town's secrets, then," Elsie said, beginning to understand. "And so he set himself up here, started up a business, and expected her to feed him information. In exchange for … what? What was in it for her? Certainly her parentage wasn't something to hold over her?" _Although Mr. Barrow seemed to think it was,_ she reminded herself, recalling what Phyllis had told her.

"No," Mary said, shaking her head. "At first, I think it was an amicable relationship. Richard owns the Barrow house - something else about which I was never aware until last night. I think he must have let them live there rent-free for a time; in exchange, she provided him with information."

Mary paused and swallowed the last of her wine in two gulps, then reached for the bottle and refilled her glass quickly. Charles raised an eyebrow at Elsie, but she shook her head slightly: _No, don't say it._

As Mary started on her second glass, she seemed to be struggling with something.

"What is it, Mary?" Elsie asked gently. "I mean, you don't have to tell us. Or perhaps you'd rather just tell Charlie?"

"No," Mary said, shaking her head. "You're the one who likely knows anyway …"

Elsie's brow furrowed. "Alright."

Mary met her gaze, clearly reining in some sort of emotion. "There were … photos. On the flash drive. Of Laura, after …"

Elsie closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lips, nodding. "Of course," she whispered. "After her husband had beaten her?"

Charles gasped, looking from Elsie to Mary and back again to Elsie. "Wait …"

But Elsie put her hand up to silence him and opened her eyes to meet Mary's once again. "How many?"

"Dozens," Mary said, the disgust clear on her face. "They're dated, starting about ten years ago from what I could tell. I … I couldn't keep looking at them. I couldn't … I couldn't believe he would _have_ those."

"Did he steal them from the police?" Charles asked. "Or maybe from someone at the hospital?"

"She was never seen at the hospital," Elsie said lowly. "The few times the authorities were ever called - by the neighbors, mind you, because of the noise - she declined medical attention."

"Uncle Charlie?"

Elsie turned to see Charles with his hand over his face, completely overwhelmed by what he was hearing. She reached across the loveseat and took his other hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.

"I didn't know," he said quietly. "You never said."

"No. I couldn't," Elsie said. "That one wasn't _my_ secret to share," she added meaningfully.

"That poor woman," he whispered, and Elsie squeezed his hand again.

"And Richard was exploiting her," Mary said, a sickened look on her face. "From what I can gather, he was manipulating her somehow. Mind games, which he was _so_ very good at." She sipped her wine again, and Elsie could tell the younger woman was about at her threshold for discomfort. "I'm sure he let her know how sickening of a woman she was, how _weak_ she was. I'm sure that he kept her under his thumb quite well." Another pause. "I'm sure he _took_ those photos. I think she'd call him for help, and he would document it, maybe even lie and say they were going to be used to get her help."

"And once she became an alcoholic herself, it would have been even easier to manipulate her," Elsie said. "She was banned from the local; he was supplying her with alcohol - that I do know."

"How do you know that?" Mary asked, but Elsie just shook her head. "Well, I know he started charging the Barrows rent three and a half years ago, because he had receipts for it all in her physical file." She looked at Charles. "The one you saw."

"Yes, but I never looked in it, thank God."

"Well, of course I can't prove any of that now," Mary said. "Which is probably good for me, as it would only look like I was involved."

"Which clearly you were not," Charles said emphatically.

"No - they've at least proven that Richard and Laura died because of the fire, and that they weren't already dead when it was started."

"Mary," Elsie ventured, "have you thought about what else this means? For _you?"_

"I have," she said quietly. "It means Tommy Barrow is my nephew. I don't know that I've even met the boy more than a few times. Funny, that, given that I know now he would often run money down to Richard, and occasionally deliver information from Laura as well."

"He brought information to Richard?" Charles asked, horrified.

"Oh, I doubt he knew what was in it," Elsie said softly. "Envelopes, probably; I'm sure his mother told him there was rent money in them and to give them over without asking questions. No, I doubt very much that Tommy was involved in anything like that."

"He was supposed to provide information about _you,_ Elsie," Mary said. "Richard had a note about that, from a few months ago. Isn't that when he started working around here?"

"It is," Elsie whispered, licking her lip.

"Well, he never did provide any, not from what I saw," Mary assured her. "It appears Richard was rather upset with Laura about that, too, from notations I found in his journal. He was a fool to record all of that, but I'm very glad he did."

"Wait," Charles said, putting his hand up as he tried to keep up, "why would Richard want information about Elsie?"

"Of course," Elsie breathed, closing her eyes briefly as it clicked in her head. "Because of Sarah."

" _Sarah?"_

Elsie nodded. "Think about it," she said. "What if she _knew_ he was blackmailing everyone in town? She certainly had a connection with him; how else would he have gotten that information about Becky? And she sent that hideous letter, which permanently connected her to Richard. She was foolish to write it in her own hand, too, because I can find any number of things at work to prove that she did, in fact, write it herself."

"Sarah O'Brien?" Mary asked, just to be sure.

"Yes," Elsie nodded, and she and Mary connected their gazes once again, understanding at last what could have happened. "You heard them, didn't you? At the church."

"I did," Mary admitted, "and you saw them. Did _you_ hear any of it?"

"Not really. But, given recent circumstances, I'm guessing she threatened him?"

"She did," Mary nodded.

"Elsie? Are you suggesting that _Sarah O'Brien_ burned down the newspaper?" Charles murmured, horrified.

He looked from Elsie to Mary, who nodded.

"Yes, Uncle Charlie," she said. "That's exactly what she's suggesting. And I think she's right."

Elsie got up and retrieved the letter, then took out her cell phone and dialed the police station.

"Officer Willis, please," she said to the person who answered the phone. She paused, then, "David? It's Elsie Hughes … Yes, I have something I need you to see … It's a letter - from Sarah O'Brien … Yes, that's right … Oh! Don't bother; she's here with us … Alright, we'll see you soon."

She hung up and looked at Charles and Mary. "He's on his way over here now," she said. "They got the rest of the DNA results back; someone finagled a rush on them - some friend of the DA, evidently. They confirmed what you already figured out, Mary: Richard and Laura were, indeed, biologically related."

"So why does he need to see me?" Mary asked.

"I presume he'd like access to the Barrow home," Elsie said softly.

"Which I now own," Mary said, shaking her head sadly.

"Which you now own," Elsie confirmed, looking at Charles.

* * *

Officer Willis arrived twenty minutes later, and Elsie and Charles left him to talk with Mary. They stood at the sink silently, side by side, washing the wine glasses and putting them away.

When they were finished, Charles turned to Elsie and drew her into his arms gently.

"You need to sleep," he whispered.

"I do," she agreed. "And so do you. It's been quite a night for you, love."

"It's just … it's a lot," he admitted. "To think that Mary was with that despicable man for so long. I mean, I _knew_ he was awful, but … well, I didn't realize quite how evil he could be. If he hurt her …"

"Shh. Charlie, don't," she murmured. "I don't think he was quite that way with Mary. Manipulative and holding that horrid night over her head, yes; but he knew her, must have seen how strong she could be. I don't think he'd have crossed that line. Even the night we interrupted them at Robert and Cora's house … I can't explain it, but I didn't get the sense that Richard was often violent with Mary. Not more that what I saw, anyhow."

They heard Willis and Mary come up the stairs and broke apart a bit, but Charles kept his arm wrapped around Elsie's waist.

"I'm going home, I think," Mary said, retrieving her purse from the chair. "Thank you for dinner, and for letting me spend some time with Daisy," she added, smiling fondly as she thought about her niece.

"What did you all get up to?" Charles enquired, curious.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Mary smirked, winking at Elsie, who just shook her head and chuckled.

"Elsie, thanks for this," Willis said, holding up the bag with the letter in it. "For what it's worth, I think you're right. We'll get an all-points out on her as soon as I get back to the station."

"You're welcome. Say hi to the family."

"When are you back at work? The kids miss you," he said seriously. "That new guy …"

"He's very capable," Elsie laughed, "but perhaps not one for small children. Still, though, at least I know they're being cared for. And I should be back at the end of the month."

"Well," he said, tipping his hat at her, "thanks again."

Mary kissed Charles on the cheek and leaned over to a rather surprised Elsie for a half-hug.

"Thank you both again," she said softly, and she grabbed her coat and headed out with Officer Willis. "Good night."

Charles stood behind Elsie and rested his chin on her head as they watched the cars drive away.

"Shower?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Definitely," she answered, turning to smile at him before pulling him down for a soft, deep kiss. "And then sleep. Lots and lots of _sleep."_

* * *

 **Please do continue to review and let me know what you think. I swear that after Chapter 42 we'll move onto a different week in my timeline.**

 **Shout-out to dillydallyy, who is the model for the new character introduced here. Wish I could really get her job in Misty Cove. You can see her heading into town on my tumblr, thanks to her GIF-making skills**

 **YOU GUYS! The lists! The requests! People who want Tommy to be not only fostered but adopted by Chelsie! People who resolutely do NOT want that to happen! People who want a baby, don't want a baby, or are convinced Elsie is already pregnant. People who want to see Sarah O'Brien hit by a lorry! And then there are the people who have a burning desire to see the wedding happen and to find out the identity of Tommy's real father. In the style of JF, I can tell you up front that not everything will be resolved neatly, because that's the way things happen in real life, and obviously not everyone will be happy with how things _do_ go. I don't apologize for not changing my main plans for this story, but I am sorry if it's not what you will want to happen. I am well aware that I can't please all of the people all the time, but I think that's what keeps it interesting.**

 ***Long-term substitutes are subs (in New England, anyhow) who take over one teacher's job for more than twelve consecutive weeks. Once they reach that status, they are paid entry-level teacher salary instead of a daily substitute teacher rate, and the pay is usually retroactive to the date when they took over the job. Building subs, on the other hand, are subs who show up at the same school every day and fill in wherever needed.**


	42. Understanding

**A/N: Another long one ...** **In the interest of reaching a wedding chapter before Christmas, I hope you don't mind. :)**

 **I can't possibly thank reviewers, readers, and rebloggers enough for all of your support. I'm well aware that where we will end up is not everyone's idea of what should happen, but I love that you've all been along on the journey.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Thursday, April 9, 2015**_

Daisy kissed her Papa goodbye and almost bolted from his car that morning. Mr. Molesley had told the students at the end of the day yesterday that they'd be meeting a new sub for Miss O'Brien today. He told them she seemed very nice and that they would call her "Miss Stephanie." Daisy had never had a teacher who asked to be addressed by her _first_ name, and she thought that was pretty interesting, indeed.

She hung her coat and now-empty bookbag and carried her notebooks and novel into the classroom. She was early, but she didn't mind; she'd use the time to finish up the book she'd started the day before so that she could return it to Miss Baxter at lunch.

She barely made it into the classroom before she stopped short, surprised by the scene before her.

The room had been _completely_ rearranged: the desks that Miss O'Brien had always kept in strict rows were now assembled in groups of four, stationed around the outside perimeter of the classroom. Daisy noted that they had colorful nametags on them, and she made her way around the room slowly and scanned each desk until she found her own. She checked to see with whom she'd been placed and was pleased to see her desk next to Marigold's - something she knew Miss O'Brien would _never_ have done.

"Good morning!" came a friendly voice from behind her, and Daisy whipped around to see a young woman - Miss Stephanie, she presumed - sitting at the teacher's desk. That had also been moved, Daisy noticed, so that it was off to the side of the room and not in front of all of the students.

"Hi," Daisy said shyly, placing her books on her desk.

Stephanie got up and peeked at where her first arrival had sat. "Daisy Carson, I presume?" She extended her hand, and Daisy shook it gently and nodded.

"Mr. Molesley tells me you're fairly new here, too. Moved at the beginning of the year?"

Daisy nodded.

"Well, Misty Cove seems like a nice town," Stephanie said. "I only arrived a couple days ago, so maybe you can tell me some of your favorite spots later on."

Daisy smiled brightly. "Okay," she said softly.

Stephanie nodded and headed back to her desk.

 _If this is the young lady who doesn't usually talk to strangers, I'd say this is looking like a promising day, indeed,_ she thought.

* * *

"I still think I should go," Charles huffed. "I should be with you … to support you."

"Beryl offered first, Charles. Besides, you and Daisy _need_ an afternoon together, without me, and Beryl wants to bring me to a dress shop near Becky's home afterwards. Bring Daisy to the library, see a movie, or make dinner with her. Hey, try to find out what she wants to do for her birthday next month." She reached up and patted his cheek. "Just don't forget about my equine and feathered friends, hm? Although Anna will be here later, and I think she's bringing John."

He smiled at her in his defeat. "We won't forget about _anyone._ And it's not that I don't think Beryl is good enough, you know that -"

"I do," she interrupted. "Of course I know that. But Becky is very comfortable with Beryl, and will likely divulge more - if there is anything _to_ divulge, which I hope to God there _isn't_ \- than she would if you were with me. I'm going to try it by myself first, though. I just … I'm not sure anyone else needs to hear whatever Becky may say," she whispered.

"I know," he replied lovingly. "And Beryl will be careful? Drive mindfully, not be slamming on the brakes and hurting you when you're in the car?"

Elsie laughed and shook her head. "You daft man," she said softly. "Of course she'll be careful. She's catering our wedding, remember? She needs me good and healthy for that!"

"True." He drew her into his arms and held her tightly. "I'll miss you. I'm not used to going all day without seeing you."

"We'll be apart for five hours, for heaven's sake!" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him gently. "Now, off you go! I think I see Beryl's car coming up the drive."

Charles turned to look out the window just as Beryl was parking by the walkway. "Fine. I'll see you tonight, then. And I think I'll bring Daisy to the store after school and she and I _will_ make dinner, so don't worry about picking anything up."

She squeezed his arm as she moved to get her coat and purse. After a moment, she doubled back and took the cane, too … just in case.

"Perfect," she replied. "Thanks."

* * *

On the way to Becky's home, Elsie filled Beryl in on the painful details of why her visit was so urgent.

"My word," Beryl whispered tearfully after hearing Elsie's account of the entire situation. "The poor thing. But you don't _know_ what happened?"

"I don't, and I don't know if she's even going to remember anything at all. I almost hope she _doesn't,_ to tell the truth. I shouldn't think it would matter, except that Sarah and her brother are still out there somewhere."

Beryl shuddered. "Yeah, well, hopefully the police find _her,_ at least. Any news on that front?"

"Actually, yes," Elsie said. "Please keep it to yourself, though, although I don't mind if you tell Bill. Mary said the Chief told her they have video of Sarah purchasing a gasoline can at a Home Depot in Portland. He can't prove that it's the same one they found remnants of at the office, but it's pretty damning even if it _is_ only circumstantial. They searched her apartment in Misty Cove and didn't find one there at all."

"And the brother? Have they contacted him at all?"

Elsie shook her head. "Not yet, but if I were them I'd have someone watching his home at the very least. There's no way of knowing if he knew anything about the fire, and he hasn't been connected to any of the rest of it at all, except in that vile letter."

"Which is why we're here," Beryl said, nodding.

"Yes," Elsie said, her lips set in a firm line as they pulled into the parking lot of the home. "To see what Becky remembers … and to warn them all that Sarah or her brother may show up at the door."

Beryl reached over and squeezed her hand. "You see to Becky, love … and leave Mags and the front desk staff to me."

"You're a godsend, Beryl," Elsie replied, squeezing back. "You really are."

* * *

"Ellie!"

Becky ran to her sister and Elsie put a hand up in warning, causing Becky to screech to a halt before careening into her.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Becky whispered. "I forgot you're hurt." She opened her arms and Elsie allowed herself to be wrapped up in a gentle hug, placing a kiss to Becky's cheek as she squeezed her in return.

"That's fine, love, don't worry," Elsie told her sister. She leaned back and brushed her knuckles over Becky's face and patted down her hair. "I am feeling better every day, but I have _missed_ you,my dear."

"I've missed you, too, Ellie," Becky said. "Where's Beryl?"

"She'll be down shortly," Elsie said, taking Becky's hand and leading her to the bed. "Let's sit, Becky, shall we? I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Is it about the wedding with Charlie?" Becky asked excitedly. "And Daisy?"

Elsie smiled fondly at how much Becky was looking forward to that. "No, but we can talk about that after if you like. Beryl has some ideas about the cake and I think she'd like your input," Elsie winked.

"Chocolate," Becky said immediately, nodding.

"I figured as much. Now, Becky … what I need to ask you about is rather important. I don't want you to be afraid to answer my questions, but if you don't remember, it's fine to say so."

"Have I done something wrong?" Becky whispered, her eyes filling with a sudden fear that just about broke her big sister's heart.

"No," Elsie soothed, swallowing a lump in her throat as she took Becky's hand.

"Alright."

"Becky, do you remember Timmy, the nurse who used to work with you?"

Becky's face darkened instantly and she whipped her hand out of Elsie's grasp. "Yes. But I don't want to talk about him."

"You must, Becky, but only for a little bit."

Becky looked up at her sister. "But you said I wasn't in trouble," she insisted, her brow furrowed with worry.

"You're not," Elsie reassured her. "But I need to ask you about that night, alright? You can trust me, love." She laid her hand palm-side up on the bed, and she breathed a sigh of relief when Becky took it again in her own.

"I know. Ellie always takes care of Becky," she whispered.

"That's right," Elsie said. "Now, can you tell me what happened _before_ you and Timmy had a fight?"

"Before? Before I … Before I hit him?"

"Yes, Becky. You must have been _very_ angry with him. I'd like to know why, if you can tell me."

Becky stared at the blanket on the bed, and Elsie felt her sister's hand begin to tremble in her own.

"It's alright," she soothed, rubbing Becky's hand gently with her thumb. "You can trust me, love, remember?"

Becky nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "He tried … He tried to ... kiss me," Becky whispered, and her tears spilled over. "And I didn't want him to."

Elsie clenched her teeth and took a deep breath. "No, I imagine you did not."

"He wouldn't listen," Becky added, "and so I pushed him away. And he got angry, Ellie. _So_ angry. He held me down on the bed and slapped me … I just couldn't help it, I got _so angry._ I pushed him off me, and started hitting him …" She broke down then, unable to say any more.

Elsie moved over and wrapped her arms around Becky, letting her cry on her shoulder as she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that what Becky had recounted was _all_ that had happened.

"It's alright, sweetheart. It's over now, you know that _._ I'm going to try and make sure he _never_ sees you again."

"You always told me, Ellie. I did what you said."

Elsie held Becky at arm's length, wiping at her sister's tears. "What did I tell you, love?" she asked, confused.

"You always said that if anyone ever tried to touch me or hurt me that they didn't have a right to do that. You said I should fight back, and that I should tell someone right away. When we moved to London - do you remember how you used to say that? I always remembered, Ellie. _Always."_

"You did an _excellent_ job remembering that, Becky. I'm so proud of you." Elsie squeezed her sister tightly, and she let Becky cry until she'd run out of tears.

"Why did you ask about it?" Becky said suddenly.

Elsie sighed. She'd been afraid Becky would ask that, but she'd prepared an answer that she hoped would suffice.

"Because his sister used to work with me, and she's been telling lies about her brother. I wanted to prove they were lies, and I knew you could help me to discover the truth. You're so very, very smart, Becky love."

"I am smart about some things," Becky agreed. "Oh!" She popped up from the bed and headed over to her bookshelf, selecting a volume and handing it to Elsie.

"This is for Charlie," she said proudly.

Elsie took the book from her and glanced at the cover.

" _Great Expectations,"_ she read aloud, smiling. "This appears new, Becky. Where did you get it?"

"One of the nurses brought it in and gave it to me. She didn't like it, but I already have my own that Beryl gave me on my last birthday," Becky explained. "I know Charlie will like it, though, and I want him to have it. He's my brother now, Ellie."

Elsie beamed at her little sister. "He is, and he will _treasure_ this, Becky. Here," she said, grabbing a pen from her purse. "Would you like to write him a message inside - inscribe it to him?"

"May I? I don't want to ruin it," Becky said with some hesitation.

"No, you won't ruin it," Elsie explained. "Sometimes, when you give someone a book, you add a little message to personalize it. It makes it _extra_ special for the person who receives it."

Becky nodded. "Alright, but you must promise not to read it," she said seriously.

Elsie leaned over and kissed Becky on the forehead. "I promise. I'll wait out with Beryl and Mags, alright? When you've finished, you can come out and join us."

"And then we can visit with Beryl?"

Elsie smiled at her. "Yes, and then we can visit with Beryl."

"Deal."

* * *

Daisy helped Charles to set the table while Elsie was carving the turkey breast they'd prepared for dinner. Daisy laughed when Max jumped up onto one of the chairs, but she scolded him just the same.

"Get down, Max," she giggled. "You can't have dinner with us! Yours is in your dish!"

"Ah, but his isn't roast turkey," Charles explained. "Well … I don't think so, anyhow," he added, looking at the bag of kibble with mock concentration.

"I don't think so, either," she laughed.

"Here we are," Elsie said, putting the last of the serving dishes out. "I'm so hungry, and this looks amazing! My compliments to the chefs."

Charles thanked her and made sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat. As they filled their plates, Elsie asked Daisy about her first day with the new teacher.

"Oh, she's great!" Daisy praised. "We did a really fun activity for Social Studies. She put a map of the United States _on the floor!"_

"Come again?" Charles asked. "As in, she taped a paper map down?"

Daisy shook her head. "No, Papa. She used tape to put the outline of the country down, and then she put in a few states like a jigsaw puzzle. _Then_ she gave each group four more states to put in, and she had some herself, too. When each group had put one state in, she'd add one to the puzzle. By the time we were done, they all fit perfectly! I had Alaska," she added, "so that was easy. I just put it off to the side. When we were finished, we all had to go and draw a star for the capital city, and label it if we knew what it was."

"And how many did you all know?" Charles asked. "That seems quite difficult to me, not being American."

"I knew Maine, Massachusetts, and Hawaii," Daisy said proudly. "And we're learning them this month."

"Did you say you're seated in groups?" Elsie asked.

"Yes - and I'm with _Marigold,"_ Daisy said, positively beaming. _"And_ Miss Stephanie said she wants to talk to you, Papa, because she thinks I'm in the wrong reading group."

"Well, even _I_ knew that," Elsie murmured, sending a wink and a smile Daisy's way. "What are you reading now?"

" _Charlotte's Web,"_ Daisy said. "Miss Stephanie handed the new books out today, but I read much more in class than what she assigned. She called me to her desk before lunch and asked me to let her know when I'm done with it, because I told her that I usually read faster than the rest of my group."

Charles smiled proudly at his daughter. "That's wonderful, Daisy. I'm glad you spoke up for yourself, petal – good for you."

The rest of dinner passed fairly uneventfully, with each of them making small talk and discussing the upcoming wedding.

"Mary is thrilled that we want to use the house," Charles said as went to fetch the pie they'd made for dessert. "I think it's giving her something happy to focus on."

"Can I help to decorate?" Daisy asked, and Elsie nodded.

"Yes, and I think Aunt Becky wants to help with that as well. I may put you two ladies in charge of that, if you don't mind?"

Daisy's eyes lit up and she nodded. "Oh, yes, please!"

Charles caught a glance from Elsie as Daisy started in on her dessert. He pursed his lips and nodded, knowing they had other things to discuss.

"Daisy," he ventured, "Elsie and I have something else we need to talk over with you."

"Okay," Daisy replied hesitantly. "Is it about the wedding?"

"No, it's not about the wedding."

"Daisy, do you know what a foster family is?" Elsie asked.

Daisy shook her head. "No."

"Well, it's a home where a child can live if they're unable to live at their own home," she explained. "Like if their parents are unable to care for them, in some way."

"Alright." Daisy furrowed her brow.

"And Elsie chose a number of years ago that her farm should _be_ one of those homes, should any child in Misty Cove need one," Charles added. "But it was a long time ago, and she never needed to provide a space for anyone … until now."

Daisy tilted her head, trying to follow the conversation, but clearly something was escaping her.

"So, someone is moving in with us?"

Elsie looked at Charles, but he nodded for her to continue.

"That's quite possible, Daisy," she said. "You see, _Tommy_ might need a place to live."

"But he's living with Jimmy's family!" she laughed. "Mrs. Kent is taking care of him, and his Papa … well, he's coming home, isn't he?"

"No, Daisy. He's not coming back," Elsie explained.

"But … why not?"

Charles wasn't sure how to explain it, so he decided to settle for the basic truth.

"Tommy's Papa was not his _real_ father. Only no one but Mr. and Mrs. Barrow knew that … until recently, that is."

"Oh. Well, then … maybe that's good," Daisy breathed, surprising both of the adults.

"I'm sorry?" Charles said.

"Well, he was mean sometimes, wasn't he? To Tommy. I think … well, I _know_ he was," she managed.

Elsie nodded. "Yes, he was," she agreed. "Which is one reason why, even if he _were_ to return, Tommy would most likely be sent to a safer place to live."

"Like here?"

"Like here," Charles confirmed. "And Mrs. Kent is very good to Tommy. But, in order to take a child in permanently, one needs to have had their home approved by the people in charge of all of that," he tried. "And she hasn't done that."

"Maybe her house isn't big enough," Daisy suggested. "Tommy said he's sleeping on Jimmy's bed, and Jimmy's sleeping on the floor."

"Yes, that's one other thing to consider."

"So … Tommy's going to stay here? With us?"

"I believe so, yes. Is that alright with you?" Elsie asked.

"Oh, yes," Daisy said, nodding. "It'll be like having a brother, sort of."

"Sort of like that, perhaps," Charles agreed hesitantly. "He'd take the room next to yours."

"He must be so very sad," Daisy whispered, twiddling her fingers under the table. "To have lost his Mama, and his Papa not wanting him."

Charles's eyes misted over, and he nodded. "Yes," he whispered, the long-ago pain of his childhood seeping into his heart once again. "I'm sure it's quite hard on him."

"Well, we'll have to make him happier," Daisy decided. "When he's ready."

"He could be coming as early as Monday, I think," Elsie added. "Do you think we can prepare his room over the weekend? What do you think he'd like?" she asked Daisy.

"I'm not sure," she replied, "but I'll try to find out tomorrow." She gave a brisk nod, sealing the deal.

Elsie watched as Charles gathered the dirty dishes and brought them into the kitchen, and then turned back to Daisy. "Thank you, sweetheart," she said to the girl. "I'm glad that you're alright with Tommy coming here."

"How long will he stay?"

"Well, we aren't really sure. But I'd say, if things go well, he can stay as long as he needs to."

"He has Aunt Mary now, doesn't he? Is he going to live with her some day?"

"I don't know," Elsie said. "But probably not, at least … not for quite a while, if ever. He doesn't really know her at all."

"But he knows us."

Elsie smiled at her and nodded.

"Yes, he does. And we're going to have to give him space, but also be extra nice to him as these next weeks go by, alright?"

Daisy nodded. "Yes. _We_ know how it is when our Mummy dies, don't we?" she asked, looking up at Elsie, who saw the sadness in Daisy's eyes and knew it was reflected in her own.

"That we do."

* * *

Charles slid into bed that night with a deep sigh.

"What a day," he breathed, leaning over to kiss Elsie's forehead as she finished the last chapter of the book she'd been reading.

"Mm," she hummed, turning the page.

He watched her as her eyes danced over the words, a smile breaking out on her face as she came to the last bit and closed the book gently.

"It was just as good the fifth time, I presume?" he teased.

"It's my favorite of Austen's novels," she sighed happily. She laid the book on her nightstand and picked up a wrapped package, handing it to Charles. "Speaking of reading, this was sent for you today."

He furrowed his brow, taking the package from her. He shook it by his ear, feigning ignorance. "You shouldn't have told me what it was," he muttered, and she smiled at him and shook her head.

"Daft man," she whispered, reaching up to brush a wayward curl from his forehead with her fingertips. "Just open it."

He pulled off the messily-tied ribbon, already suspecting the true giver of the gift from its misshapen bow and the childlike wrapping. Tearing the paper off and casting it aside, he turned the book right-side up and read the title.

" _Great Expectations,"_ he said softly, smiling and shaking his head. "Dickens, of course." He looked at Elsie. "I presume this is from my new sister?"

She nodded, beaming at him for the use of the familial word. "Go on, then. Open it," she encouraged him.

He pried open the cover and read the inscription, written in Becky's signature scrawl:

 _To Charlie, because I love you. And because you take care of Ellie. And because I always wanted a brother to talk to._

 _Love,_

 _Becky_

Elsie watched as his lip quivered. He wiped at his eyes but could only manage to shake his head, feeling foolish. He tried to hand the book to Elsie, but she put her hand up and pushed it back to him.

"No," she whispered. "She told me not to read it; she said it was for _your_ eyes only."

He laughed a bit and nodded, then set it on the bedside table. "I don't have that one," he said softly. "I'm not sure why, but it's one I never acquired. I don't think I ever mentioned it to her, though. And most of my books are still in boxes at the beach house, anyhow." He licked his lips and turned to his fiancée. "I shall treasure it always," he said seriously. "And her."

"I already knew that," she said lovingly. "Come here," she added, pulling him down beside her.

He hummed in her ear as he kissed it, moving his way down to her neck as she tilted her head to allow him easier access. His hands began to roam her body, and he smiled as he lifted her nightshirt and his hand brushed over only skin as it traveled up and across her hip.

"Someone came to bed a bit underdressed," he teased quietly.

"Someone missed you these last couple of crazy days," she replied, reaching her hand behind his head and pulling him down for a kiss. "And someone is afraid that starting next week, these evening activities will be a bit fewer and farther between if we have to get accustomed to a new house guest."

"I'm sure we can find time," he murmured against her lips. His tongue glanced across them, seeking entrance which she readily gave.

As they kissed hungrily and he moved over her, Elsie sighed with utmost happiness.

"I never imagined this," she whispered, her hands reaching up and grasping the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingernails scratching at his scalp as she did so. "Ever."

"I hope I'm not a disappointment," he said, a playfulness in his eyes.

"Hardly," she reassured him, her eyebrows raised as she reached down to guide him.

He looked deep into her eyes as he joined them at last, moving slowly and gently within her. As he got lost in the familiar sea of their love - whispered words, worshipful sounds - the last coherent though he managed was that his life was complete.

* * *

 _ **Monday, April 13**_

Elsie jumped when the phone rang by her side. She'd been dozing on the chair in the living room while reading her book, but she had been expecting the call.

"Phyllis?"

" _Elsie, you're all set. I just got back from the office in Portland and you're approved! Tommy can move in at any time."_

"You're sure?"

" _Of course I'm sure," Phyllis laughed. "I've sent a note to his study hall teacher to send him down after lunch, and I'll talk to him then."_

Elsie felt a nervous twinge in her stomach. "What if he doesn't want to come?" she asked, worried.

" _I'm not sure what we'd do," Phyllis admitted. "Mrs. Kent could apply to become a foster parent if she wanted to, I suppose. In the meantime, I think the court would look for Tommy's next living relative, though."_

"Which is Mary."

" _Yes. And before you ask, I_ _ **have**_ _spoken with her. She called me this morning."_

"She _what?"_

" _Ha! That was my reaction, too. But she wanted to know if she had a legal responsibility to take Tommy in. She's not in a good place, Elsie. I've encouraged her to seek Charles out, and her family, and I think she will. But if it were my decision, her home would not be on a short list of places I'd send him just now."_

"No," Elsie said, nibbling on the corner of her lip, "I bet not."

" _I'll call you after I see Tommy, alright? If it all goes well, would you be able to take him in today?"_

"We would," Elsie assured her. "We spent most of the weekend getting the spare room ready just in case. Daisy even managed to find out a few things about him, like his favorite color and such, and we tried to work those things in."

" _Excellent. She's such a thoughtful girl, you know."_

"I do," Elsie said, smiling.

" _Do you think Charles could bring him by his house today if all goes as planned? That was something Mary and I discussed, actually. The house is technically hers now, and she'll want to rent it eventually but is in no rush to do so now. Still, though, Tommy will need to move more of this things into your place that what he brought to the Kents' house. And then, when Mary moves forward, she and Tommy can decide what to do with the rest. She'll bring the key by your place sometime this afternoon, if that's alright."_

"I'll be here," Elsie sighed. "Oh, Phyllis … that poor woman. All this and she has to plan a funeral for her husband, too - whom she didn't even _like._ I feel sorry for her … and _you_ know I _never_ thought I'd say that."

" _Yes, well, circumstances change," Phyllis mused. "I'd forgotten about the funerals. Who's handling Laura's, do you know?"_

"Well," Elsie ventured, "Charles and I discussed that last night, actually. I wondered if I would call Mrs. Kent and see if she'd like to help Tommy and I do that. I'll ask Tommy first, of course. It should be his decision, in part. But clearly Laura's husband will be useless, and that poor woman deserves to be laid to rest in peace."

" _Well," Phyllis said softly, "I'll certainly support you in any way I can. In fact, I'm sure Edith will want the entire staff to contribute to that."_

"Probably. How's she doing?"

" _Fine. Getting big," Phyllis said, "but she's had a good couple of weeks, all things considered."_

"Good. Alright, call me later. And, Phyllis? Thank you."

" _You're welcome."_

* * *

Elsie managed to keep busy while Charles was at the school picking up Daisy. Phyllis hadn't called but Elsie wasn't terribly surprised by that, knowing as she did how busy days could get at the school on a _normal_ day, let alone one where the kids would all have been discussing the fire and, more specifically, the now-public identities of the two people who'd perished in it. An article had appeared in the Sunday paper, which was being published by the next town over and distributed to the residents of Misty Cove, and she was sure everyone had seen it by now. She was glad Tommy had chosen to go to school, though, knowing from personal experience that a normal routine would help him more than anything else. It had now been a full week since the fire; in some ways, it seemed like a month, but in others it seemed like mere hours.

When Charles finally arrived, much later than she'd expected, Elsie was shocked to see that he already had Tommy with him. She had expected Tommy to be dropped off later on by Mrs. Kent or perhaps even Phyllis. As she watched both kids get out of the car and head to the barn she took a deep, cleansing breath, and stepped out the front door.

Charles approached her with a calm demeanor about him, and she relaxed instantly, knowing that Tommy must be there of his own volition, at least in part.

"Alright, then?" she asked, and he nodded.

"It is," he confirmed, dropping a kiss to her smiling lips. "I arrived to pick up Daisy, and Tommy was waiting with her. Phyllis was with them, and she asked me into her office. We went over a few things," he said, glancing at the barn, "and then stopped off at the Kents to pick up the things he had there."

He reached for Elsie's hand and nodded toward the living room; they both headed back into the house and sat on the sofa.

"He seems fine," Charles said. "I think perhaps he's operating on autopilot, just trying to make it through the days. The sadness, the unknowns … I think school is the only thing he can count on, and he seemed happy to have been there."

"I agree. It's the one constant in his life at the moment. I hope he thinks of _us_ in that way, eventually."

"He may," Charles said. "We're going to the house shortly, so that he can pack a few things." He raised his eyebrows. "He wanted to see his room here first."

"Good. I hope he _thinks_ of it as _his,"_ she mused. "Perhaps once his things are there." She hesitated, then added, "You're sure you're alright bringing him there alone?"

"I am," Charles reassured her. "To be honest, I think it'll be good to have some time alone with the boy, as uncomfortable as it makes me … and, no doubt, him."

She reached out and cupped his face, smiling fondly when he turned to kiss her palm.

* * *

The ride to Tommy's old house was fairly short, but neither he nor Charles could find anything to say, each of them lost in his own thoughts.

When Charles pulled up in front of the house and parked, he handed the key to Tommy.

"I'll come in and help you, then," he stated, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

"Thanks," Tommy said.

Charles looked at the boy, noting that the color had drained from his face.

"Are you ready for this, Tommy? I mean … well, we can come back another time, if you'd like?"

"I don't think it'll be any easier then," Tommy said sagely. "Will it?"

Charles shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Right, then," Tommy nodded. "I have a few things I'd really like to take today, and then maybe we can come back this weekend?"

"Whenever you'd like," Charles said supportively.

"I wish Elsie had been able to come," Tommy whispered, and then he realized how that sounded and looked up at Charles, worried. "I didn't mean it like -"

"I _know_ what you meant, Tommy," Charles interrupted, reassuring the boy. "No hard feelings. She's rather a calm and no-nonsense presence when you need one."

The boy smiled at him faintly and nodded. "Exactly."

"Let's go, then, shall we? Because she'll have my head if we're late for dinner," Charles teased.

They made their way up to the porch and unlocked the door, and Tommy led Charles inside. He reached out to turn on the light, and Charles took a moment to gaze around at the room.

The furniture was solid but looked old, he remarked. There were a few framed photos on the wall; upon closer inspection, he noted that they were all of Tommy, and all school photos at that. There were no personal, candid photos, no wedding picture, and no evidence that the elder Mr. Barrow ever lived there: no pipe on the table, no umbrella in the stand; none of his shoes on the rack, and no man's coat on the hook. It was as if, when he'd left, his wife had removed any trace that he'd ever existed at all.

Tommy disappeared down the hall, and it occurred to Charles that he should check the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled everything out; locating the trash, he dumped everything, tied the bag shut, and brought it out to the trash barrel. He remembered that no one had thought to do that at his parents' house and that, once he'd finally gotten there himself, it had been a horrible task. He gave the pantry cupboard a quick glance but didn't see much in it at all, and nothing that would perish soon anyhow.

He made his way down the hall, thinking perhaps Tommy might need a hand.

"Tommy?" he called softly.

He heard a sniffle and poked his head around the corner, but all he saw was the room he presumed to be Tommy's … empty.

"I'm in here," Tommy's voice came from across the hall, and Charles crossed into the second bedroom. He found Tommy sitting on his parents' bed, crying softly into a pillow that he was clutching to his chest.

"Well, now," Charles said, his quiet voice rumbling as he sat down next to Tommy. "I should have thought I'd find you in here."

"Why?" he sniffled, wiping furiously at his eyes.

"Because it was your Mum's room," Charles said simply. "It makes sense you'd want to spend time surrounded by her, doesn't it?"

"I guess."

Charles sighed. "When Daisy's mother died, we were about to be divorced. We didn't have any of her things in my house then, and I didn't get on well with the man she'd been living with. But Daisy insisted on going there - made me bring her by the flat - and so we went.

"When we arrived, I wasn't sure what to expect. But Daisy knew what she wanted. She ran straight for the bedroom - her Mum's, not her own - and dove straight onto the bed." He reached out and tugged gently on the corner of the pillow that Tommy was holding. "For one of these," he added with a sad smile, shaking his head. "It smells like her, doesn't it?"

Tommy nodded, blushing. "It's stupid."

"It's _not,"_ Charles insisted. "It makes you feel … close to her, I suppose."

Tommy nodded again. "It does," he whispered harshly, burying his face in the pillow again.

"Bring them both," Charles said, nodding toward Laura's other pillow as he gently clapped Tommy's shoulder. "Bring whatever you wish. And if you forget something, we'll come back."

He handed Tommy a handkerchief. "I'll get the boxes we brought out of the car," he said quietly. "You take your time and let me know when you're ready to fill them, alright?"

"Yeah," Tommy whispered, wiping his eyes and then blowing his nose. "Thanks."

Charles pursed his lips and nodded, then got up and headed out for the boxes. He'd brought three, not really knowing what Tommy would need but figuring at least the largest of them would be suitable for the majority of his clothing. He carried them into the living room and set the smaller two on the sofa, taking a minute to secure the bottom of the largest with some packaging tape.

Tommy emerged from the hallway and set the pillows on the sofa by the remaining boxes, then wordlessly took the one Charles had just assembled and headed to his bedroom.

 _Alright, then …_ Charles reached for the second box and set it and the third up with a securely-taped bottom. He waited, not sure of what to do, and his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He smiled when he saw Elsie's text:

 _You boys managing alright? x_

He heard a dresser drawer slide shut and typed a quick reply:

 _Yes. He's packing clothes._

 _OK. Give him space._

 _That's why I'm standing in the parlour, texting you. Love you. Home soon._

She sent one last answer, making him smile again:

 _Can't wait. x_

He pocketed the phone as Tommy was coming down the hall dragging what appeared to be a very heavy, very full box, which he deposited next to the chair by the end table.

Charles picked up the other two boxes and handed one to Tommy. "Care for some help?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks," Tommy shrugged - trying for a nonchalance that wasn't fooling either of them.

Charles nodded, and followed the boy back down the hall.

Into the boxes went a variety of items, some of which made Charles take pause, not that he'd have said anything: photos, some of Laura's jewelry and one of her scarves, a few books, a photo album, a couple of toys - those things he expected; the coffee mug, pen and pencil set, mantle clock, and a few knick-knacks - those he couldn't possibly explain. Regardless, they meant something to Tommy, and so each was carefully wrapped in newspaper and placed in the box.

"I cleaned out the kitchen," Charles volunteered, "and we should leave the trash barrel by the road. When's your trash picked up?"

"Fridays," Tommy answered.

"Alright, I'll come back then and bring the barrel back up." He hefted the clothing box and Tommy grabbed the one holding the books and toys, and they put them into the car. They went back for the last box, which Charles picked up effortlessly while Tommy went around and turned off the lights. He came back to the living room and grabbed the pillows off the sofa, clutching them tightly and taking a deep breath before looking up at Charles.

"It may surprise you to hear it, Mr. Carson, but I've been happy here," he said, his voice wavering. "She made it nice, and she did the best she could. Sometimes it wasn't bad at all."

"I have no doubt about that, Tommy," Charles said, standing up a bit straighter as he evaluated the condition of the boy before him: _shaken,_ he thought, _and barely holding it together._ "Let's go. Elsie will be wondering where we are, hm?"

"Yeah," Tommy said, heading out the front door.

Charles locked up and deposited the box in the trunk with the others before taking his seat behind the wheel.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr. Carson,' Tommy. It's Charles." He chuckled, then added, "Or Charlie, if you prefer, which is what Elsie seems to have everyone calling me these days."

Tommy looked at him seriously, as if assessing the man beside him.

"Charles, I think," he said, nodding. "Thanks."

"Well, that's alright, then," Charles said, starting the car.

* * *

Dinner was a fairly quiet affair, with Elsie managing to keep the conversation flowing by discussing the farm, school, and potential plans for the upcoming weekend. She didn't bring up the funeral, but she knew she and Tommy would have to discuss that soon.

 _Tomorrow,_ she promised herself as she stole a look at the boy now sitting to her right.

"Showers, then," she said when everyone was finished. "Daisy, why don't you go first?"

Daisy nodded and did as she was told, and Tommy and Charles cleaned up after dinner.

"Thank you," Charles said to him, and Tommy nodded.

When it was Tommy's turn in the shower, Charles joined Elsie in the sunroom and handed her a glass of wine.

"Daisy's finishing up a bit of homework," he said, explaining his girl's absence, and Elsie nodded.

"Thanks for this," she said, holding up the glass, and he clinked his against it.

"Here's to new changes - may they go smoothly," he said with a tilt of his head, and she smiled and nodded before sipping the deep, velvety red wine.

"Oh, that's a good one," she praised, and he smiled at her.

"Well, it's not every day we do _this,"_ he said, nodding in the general direction of Tommy's room.

"Don't I know it," she sighed.

Elsie looked up the steps and saw Tommy heading back to his room; a few minutes later, she heard Daisy in there, too, and Max's nails scurrying back and forth across the floor.

She and Charles looked at each other, curious, and made their way to the dining room, where they stood and listened to what, exactly, was going on. They remained silent, neither wanting the children to realize they were being overheard.

"Come on in, buddy," Daisy said. "Come see Tommy."

They watched Max trot into Tommy's room, and Elsie looked at Charles and mouthed, _I think he just jumped onto the bed._

They heard Tommy murmuring something they couldn't quite make out, and then Daisy answered, "Well, I'll leave his bed here, but he'll probably sleep with you." Then a pause, and she added, "I thought he might make you feel a bit better. He's a really good boy."

"Yeah," Tommy answered, "he seems like it. I never had a dog, but I like Max."

"He used to come in and cuddle with me when I was sad at night," Daisy said quietly.

Charles looked at Elsie, who wrapped her arm around him in a tight, sideways hug, no words necessary or even adequate to address how they both were feeling as they listened to the exchange.

"It was awful," Daisy told Tommy.

"It's why you didn't talk, isn't it?" he asked her.

"Yeah. But that's easier now. I don't know why, really. It … It just is."

"What's it like, living here?"

Elsie heard the bed creak and realized Daisy must have joined him on it.

"Nice. It's great living with the horses, being able to be with them every day. I talk to them a lot," she confided. "I was supposed to at first, I know that, but … well, they don't talk back, you know? They just listen." Max's tags jingled, and Elsie knew they must be cuddling him. "Like you, huh, Max?"

Daisy and Tommy giggled, and Elsie presumed one of them had just received a very wet dog kiss.

"And you work, right? Have chores and stuff?"

"Some," Daisy said. "Papa does a lot, and Anna and John, because Elsie still can't do anything in the barn. She doesn't leave the house, really. But she's supposed to come back to school soon."

"Good," Tommy said. "Everyone misses her."

"Yeah, I bet. It's nice, being here. She's a good ..." She hesitated, and Charles leaned over and kissed Elsie's temple, knowing what was coming.

"She's a good Mum," Daisy said softly. "Not that you want another one, I know. But, well, she takes care of us … like a Mum should. And she's really nice."

"Yeah, but you don't get in trouble anyway," Tommy scoffed. "So she's likely _never_ angry with _you."_

"Well, then don't get in trouble," Daisy said simply, causing Elsie to snort with laughter.

Charles looked at her, then tilted his head toward the bedrooms: _Shall we?_ Elsie nodded, and they joined the kids.

"Getting settled in, then?" Charles asked.

"Trying to," Tommy said. He looked up at Elsie and added, "Thanks for letting me stay here."

Elsie made her way over to him and ruffled his hair, making him blush a bit. He got choked up and tried to stop his tears from coming again, but he couldn't quite manage it.

Elsie sat gingerly beside him and wrapped her arms around him, letting him cry on her shoulder once again.

Charles reached out for Daisy's hand and gave it a little tug. "Come on," he whispered, and she followed him back to her own room.

Elsie sat and held Tommy until his sobs quieted, rubbing his back the entire time.

"Sorry," he snuffled, wiping at his nose.

"No," Elsie said firmly, and he looked up sharply.

"Don't ever be sorry for how you feel, Tommy, do you hear me? You need to let it out, Tommy. If you don't, it'll eat you alive."

He nodded, already having felt some of what she was explaining.

"We're here for you, but it's not going to be easy at first. You're going to be sad and angry and hate it here sometimes, and _that's alright._ But please, let us help you through it. Don't ever forget that Charlie and I _want_ you here - Daisy, too." She ruffled his hair again. "Otherwise, we wouldn't have worked so hard to _get_ you here."

"Thanks," he managed. "I can still work here, right? I mean, I am sure you need stuff done."

"Absolutely," she confirmed. "I'm not sure what I'd have done without you _before_ I got hurt, Tommy. I am sure we can find things for you to do now that you're here all the time."

"Well, you didn't have Charles living here then," he pointed out with a smirk.

She laughed softly. "Perhaps not," she allowed, "but he can't do it all." She leaned forward and whispered, "He's no kid anymore."

Max shifted and laid his head in Tommy's lap, nudging the boy's hand until he earned a pat on the head.

"Can he really sleep in here?" Tommy asked, indicating Max, and Elsie nodded.

"I'm sure he'd love it," she whispered, reaching out to scratch Max's ear. "And we're right down the hall; if you need anything, just come and get one of us, alright?"

"Yeah, well … that might be weird," Tommy said, flushing as he reminded himself that Elsie was, in reality, kind of like a teacher.

"Perhaps," she admitted with a smile, "but you'll get used to it."

"Elsie?"

"Yes?"

"She needs a funeral. My Mum, I mean. Obviously," he added with a slight eye roll. "But I don't know how that happens."

Elsie reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "We'll take care of that when the time comes, I promise. I've got some ideas, and we'll need your input every step of the way. No one knew her as well as you did, after all."

Tommy nodded. "Okay. I just don't want _him_ there."

"I don't think we have to worry about that," she said, a steely glint of something in her eyes, something Tommy thought he recognized, and it surprised him - it looked like _hate,_ but he couldn't be quite sure, because he never associated that with Elsie before.

And then he remembered when the social worker came by the house, and how he'd told Elsie about that; he remembered how he _knew_ she'd sent someone, and how she'd confirmed it without saying a word. And he remembered how he knew that minute that she was watching out for him, and how he'd understood instantly that Elsie would do what she had to in order to protect him.

"I forget sometimes … about you, about what you told me. How you understand."

"It's hard to deal with your feelings when you love and hate someone at the same time," she said softly. "But we're here to help you through it all, I promise."

"Okay," he yawned.

"Alright. Time for bed, I think," Elsie said. She got up and looked at the shelves, noticing for the first time that he'd unpacked the things he'd brought. She smiled at the picture of Tommy and Laura that was set out in the exact center of the bottom shelf, realizing he'd put it there so he'd see it from his bed.

"She had it in her room," he said softly. "From last summer, when we went to the beach."

Elsie nodded as she ran her hands over the books, noting a few of the titles.

"Are you much of a reader, Tommy?" she asked.

"Yeah. Horror, mostly," he said, "as you can see."

"I've read a few of these," she said, moving on to the neighboring shelf. "Oh, what a lovely clock. It looks quite old."

"It was my Granddad's," he said lovingly. "My Mum's Dad. He died when I was ten, but he was a clock maker. He made that one, and he gave it to Mum when she was a little girl. It was her favorite thing in the house."

His face darkened, and he added more quietly, "My … no … _Her husband_ broke it once, but I managed to fix it."

Elsie turned to him and sighed. "It's alright to still think of him as your father, Tommy. That's how you knew him for so many years -"

"No," he cut her off firmly. "I can't. He didn't love me like one, anyhow. I understand that now."

"Well," she said, "it's a lovely clock. Charlie has an antique one that he got for his birthday. Maybe you can teach him a thing or two about it?" she suggested with a half-smile.

"Oh, yeah," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I'd love to. I've seen that out there; it's really lovely."

"Well, then, we'll work on that tomorrow, maybe. But now you should try to sleep, young man," she said sternly, but he saw the mischief in her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, yawning again as he tucked down under the blankets.

"Goodnight," she said softly. "And remember … just down the hall."

"Got it. 'Night. And thanks."

"You're welcome."

Elsie left the door open a crack in case Max had to get out. She found Charles in their bedroom, where he'd moved the glasses of wine that he'd topped off.

"Everything alright?" he asked, and she nodded.

"About as good as it can be, for now," she said. "I left him snuggled up with Max and one of the pillows he brought."

"Laura's," Charles said by way of explanation, and Elsie nodded her understanding.

"Come here," Charles said once she'd changed into her nightclothes. He'd built the pillows up against the headboard and she crawled up on to the bed, sitting between his legs and leaning back slightly on his chest. They sat quietly for a while, drinking their wine as they allowed themselves to get lost in their own thoughts.

"I love you," she said eventually. "For this," she added, "and everything else."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, and then he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I love you, too, Els. More than anything."

* * *

 **A word or two in review would be lovely. Thanks so much to you all! x**


	43. Glimpses

**A/N: Little snippets here … Introspective, but with little** _ **action,**_ **it will set us up for the rest of the story.**

 _ **These events take place over the course of ten days; individual dates are not listed, but the events are chronological.**_

 **Tossing "Little Wonders" on the playlist - Spotify; chelsiesouloftheabbey; "After the Fall." I've used this before (in WWTA) but it's applicable here as well.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder,**_

 _ **Don't you know the hardest part is over?**_

 _ **Let it in, let your clarity define you;**_

 _ **In the end, we will only just remember how it feels.**_

 _ **Our lives are made in these small hours,**_

 _ **These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate.**_

 _ **Time falls away but these small hours,**_

 _ **These small hours still remain.**_

 _ **~ "Little Wonders," Rob Thomas**_

* * *

 _ **April 14-23, 2015**_

"Chief!"

Detective Willis rushed into Vyner's office as the older man was hanging up the phone; Willis was out of breath but had a determined look on his face.

"There's been a sighting of the O'Brien woman. A patrol unit spotted her down in Boston. They recognized her from the bus station video footage and are holding her. I can be there in less than three hours -"

"Go," Vyner interrupted. "And bring her back here, on suspicion of arson and a double homicide."

"Any word on the brother?"

"Last known addresses seems to be in Kennebunk - just got approval for the surveillance from the DA. We're on it - _go."_

"You got it," Willis said. He stopped by his own desk to grab his lunch bag and then ran out the door, hopped into the patrol SUV, and sped off.

 _Lights and sirens all the way,_ he told himself, the adrenaline making his fingers tap on the steering wheel. _No way are we losing this lady now._

* * *

Elsie and Charles were making breakfast when Tommy stumbled out of his room.

"You're up early," Elsie commented kindly. "Did you sleep much?"

Tommy nodded, rubbing his hands on his face. "A bit, yeah. Thanks." He plopped down on one of the counter chairs and added, "That smells good."

"Waffles, bacon, and toast," Charles said with a smile.

"Someone was starving when he woke up," Elsie chuckled, tilting her head in Charles's direction. "That _always_ means a big breakfast for the rest of us."

Tommy smiled a bit but said nothing.

"Why not go and get dressed and put your school things together? We should be ready to eat soon after that," Charles suggested as he pulled a waffle off the iron and put it on the warming dish in the oven. "Ten minutes?"

"Okay," Tommy mumbled, yawning widely.

Elsie watched him head into the bathroom and heard the door click shut.

"So far, so good," she mumbled.

"Typical teenager, I think," Charles agreed. "Do you think he slept like he said?"

"From the look of him? Not a wink. Would you have if you were him, though?"

He sighed sadly and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

* * *

Daisy and Tommy got off to school fine, albeit with a few more yawns from Tommy along the way. Elsie was desperate to spend some time in the barn with Anna; she'd been working the girl to the bone but had barely seen her since Easter. What's more, she needed to rework the schedule a bit now that she wanted to accommodate some riding time for Tommy. She wasn't sure how strong of a rider he was, so Anna would have to supervise that particular task instead of Charles or John, if for no other reason than liability for the business.

"Hello?" Elsie called out softly, and she heard a shuffle from behind the door.

Anna peeked her head around the corner. "Elsie!" she gasped, blushing furiously.

Elsie rolled her eyes and shook her head, a smile on her face. "Good morning, dear," she said. "Morning, John!" she called a bit more loudly, chuckling as she turned and walked away. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes, you two," she added over her shoulder. "Make sure you're decent."

Anna turned guiltily to John, who was busy buttoning the top three buttons Anna had undone on his shirt.

"Don't worry," he soothed her, placing a kiss to her forehead. "She knows we wouldn't have done _that_ here."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "We have before," she smirked.

"She wasn't _home_ then," he reminded her. "My God, I could never look Elsie in the face again if we did that when she was home. No way," he insisted.

"Fine," Anna answered, walking away with a bit of a sway to her hips. "Just wait until I get you back to _our_ home, Mr. Bates."

"I look forward to it," he chuckled, reaching for a pail.

* * *

Charles tossed an extra head of lettuce into the grocery cart, pushing it along and meticulously checking items off of his list.

 _Steaks, potatoes, cabbage, carrots, fruit … Oh, the cereal - damn, have to go back …_

He turned around and realized he was smiling as he peered down at the cart, which was full of food for what he considered to be his growing 'family.' Anna and John were at the house for lunch half the time; Tommy being there now meant larger meals for dinner, which he was happy to prepare; Beryl and Bill were stopping by next week. Then there was Mary, whom they were trying to have around whenever possible.

Elsie had her follow-up appointment later on that afternoon, and Charles was looking forward to hearing about Richard's opinion on her progress. They were a bit worried given the amount of time she'd been up and about lately; additionally, she'd been spending a lot of time sitting and working on the laptop - first with the recertification coursework so that Tommy could move in, and then with getting ahead a bit on farm things as she prepared for returning to school. But Charles knew that, all in all, she was progressing more rapidly than they'd initially been told to expect.

School vacation was the following week, and Charles wanted to take Elsie and the children somewhere fun, at least for a couple of days. He had an idea but had yet to run it by Elsie, not wanting her to fib to Richard about how she was feeling simply because she wished to get away.

As he tossed two boxes of cereal into the cart and headed to the checkout, he discovered that he was whistling. _Whistling!_ He shook his head at his folly but felt the familiar feeling of contentment and love growing once again, the thing that had been blossoming slowly in his chest from the moment Elsie Hughes had agreed to go on their first date.

"Good morning, Mr. Carson," came a slightly faint voice from his right.

Charles looked up and saw William standing at the end of the grocery line, a crisp, blue apron tied around his waist and a shiny, new nametag pinned to his chest.

"William!" he greeted the lad, holding his hand out. "I didn't realize you'd gotten a job here."

"Once a week after school, to try it out," he said. "Mum wanted me at the restaurant, but …"

Charles chuckled. "Yes, I think I understand. Well, it seems you're doing fine so far," he commented, nodding to the well-packed bag that William put in his carriage. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mr. Carson. Have a nice day."

* * *

"Here we are," Anna said, putting the car in park. "Shall I go in with you?"

"If you want," Elsie shrugged. "It's a gorgeous day outside, though, so if you'd rather sit out in his little garden area I'll just find you when I'm finished."

"Mmm, that sounds heavenly, actually," Anna said. "He's done such a fabulous job back there - it'll make quite a nice spot for the person who buys it."

Elsie was shocked and turned quickly to Anna. "What do you mean?" She knew Richard was considering retirement but she didn't think _Anna_ knew that yet.

Anna pointed to the window. "Just there - look."

Elsie's eyes followed and she took in a short breath as she read the sign: _Established Business For Sale,_ it read, followed by contact information for a local realtor.

"Well, well," she mused, the corner of her mouth lifting. "What do you know?"

Anna giggled. "Not as much as you did, apparently. See you in a bit - good luck."

Elsie made her way into the office and smiled at the receptionist - a slight, sweet woman named Bessie, born and bred in Misty Cove and sounding every bit like the native from Maine.

"Mornin', Elsie! The Doc'll be right with ya," Bess said by way of greeting. She handed Elsie a clipboard. "Updated HIPAA* form," she explained. "Just fill that out for me and I'll take it when you're done, hun."

"Sure thing."

Elsie sat and filled out her information, smiling when she added _Charles Carson_ and his phone number to her Emergency Contact and Health Care Proxy sections. They'd discussed this last week and had agreed it would be best to update everything now, before they left on honeymoon to … well, wherever they ended up. Charles had been prodding her for two weeks to start thinking about a location; however, at the moment, she just couldn't manage to focus on anything beyond Tommy and getting better. Wedding planning would be coming soon enough.

"All set," Elsie said, handing the clipboard back to Bessie. "Thanks."

* * *

"Alright," Richard said as he washed his hands, "let's see what we have. Been feeling well?"

"Mostly," Elsie allowed. "Spent a ton of time sitting these last couple of weeks - computer work. But I was on the laptop so I could switch chairs when needed, and I took pretty frequent breaks."

"Working on anything fun?" he asked, clearly interested.

"A few things for the farm," she said, "but I was mostly working on getting my foster parent recertification done."

"Really?" Richard asked, astonished. "Any particular reason?"

Elsie smiled and nodded. "Tommy Barrow."

"Ah, _wonderful_ news, Elsie! That boy needs a stable home. If you don't mind my saying so, I imagine it helps that you know him fairly well?"

Elsie scrunched up her eyebrows. "How do you know that?"

"I hear things," he said, smiling.

 _Of course._ The thought that Tommy (or, perhaps, Laura … although Elsie doubted it) may have confided in Richard about his trust of Elsie was good news, indeed. _He's doctor to half the town, after all._

"I see," was all she said aloud.

"Alright, take these," he said to her, all business as he handed her two pillows. "Lean forward over them," he added, and she complied.

Richard untied the back of the hospital gown and examined her spine. He pushed on a few spots, tenderly at first but then a bit more firmly.

"That hurt?"

"No, not at all, actually."

"And this?" he asked, applying firm pressure to one particular area.

"Not really - a bit uncomfortable, but I wouldn't call it pain, exactly."

"Excellent. Alright, let's have you stand up."

Elsie got off the examining table and stood. Richard had her lean and bend in various ways, checking her flexibility and how far she could move without discomfort or pain.

"Remarkable," he praised her. "You've done _very_ well."

"Why, thank you," she said, smiling.

"No lifting anything over ten pounds, and no lifting combined with leaning, correct?"

"Correct. I think the only thing I do that bothers me after a while is sitting in one position for too long: at the table, reading in bed, things like that. We drove over a pothole the other day, and that did a number. But otherwise, things are fine."

Richard looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "I presume you've resumed a level of intimate activity as well? And aren't suffering from any pain in that regard?"

She stared at her hands, which she was twisting one against the other. "We have, and I appear to be fine."

"You're being careful, then, I presume - and will need to continue to do so for at least another month or two. But there's nothing indicating that what you _are_ doing is hurting you at all."

She dared to look him straight in the eyes.

"Alright, then."

"Well, I'd say you're good to go, Elsie. Stay away from _any_ farm chores until at least the middle of the summer. But you should be able to return to school at the end of the month as planned, no question – just don't sit at your desk all day without moving about some, and no lifting any children. If something happens, you'll need to get assistance, understood?"

She nodded.

"Good. You should be feeling much more like your old self come August."

"Excellent. I've been waiting to hear that. I was afraid I'd be pushing my luck, planning a wedding before I was sure I could enjoy it."

"I'd say by then you should be fine. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

She almost let it slide, but she just couldn't. Not anymore.

"Yes," she said hesitantly, biting down on the edge of her lip. "Actually, there is."

* * *

Tommy slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned swiftly - and almost walked straight into Daisy.

"Hi," she said quietly, glancing around to see the other kids that were near them.

"You all set? Your Papa should be here by now. Sorry I was running late; had to see one of my teachers and get help with something."

She nodded and they fell into step side-by-side as they crossed the school.

"So I've got an 'appointment' today," he said hesitantly. "With the horse?"

Daisy giggled and nodded. "It's nice."

"It's _bizarre._ I know it's supposed to be some weird therapy thing, but seriously. It's a _horse."_

She just smirked at him as he pushed the school door open for them. "You'll see," she whispered.

They climbed into the car, Tommy taking the front seat.

"Everyone have a good day?" Charles asked as he pulled away.

"Yep!" Daisy said from the back.

Charles looked sideways. "And you, Tommy?"

"It was alright," he said quietly.

The memorial service for Laura Barrow was scheduled for the Saturday that would begin school vacation, and Tommy and Elsie had begun to plan it with Mrs. Kent; before then, though, Tommy still had a few things to take care of.

"I wrote something for the memorial service during my study block."

"Did you? And are you happy with it?"

Tommy looked at him curiously. "I am, actually."

"Well, that's what matters," Charles said.

It was not the reaction Tommy expected _at all._ He thought he'd be questioned about what he'd written, or maybe that Charles would want to discuss the service; he had braced himself for answering several questions, to the point where he'd almost said nothing at all.

"Thanks," Tommy muttered, knowing that Charles - who merely nodded - would hear every word the boy _hadn't_ said as well.

* * *

Beryl tucked herself into her husband's side, smiling at how lying with him in their bed was the one place she had where she could feel so small, quiet, and protected.

Bill wrapped his arm around her and placed a kiss to her lips. "You look exhausted, love."

"It's been a hell of a week," she sighed. "I'm glad you're bringing William to and from work. Thank you for that."

"Well," he countered, "you deal with Ivy showing up at the restaurant as soon as the bus drops her off after school. One day a week to and from the store is the least I can do. And with vacation being next week we'll _both_ be busier, I imagine."

"Yes, let's not talk about that _quite_ yet, thank you very much. I'd like to survive the weekend first, I think."

They were quiet for a while, each lost in their thoughts. Beryl trailed her hand absentmindedly over her husband's stomach, wondering for a moment how many thousands of times she'd done the very same thing over their eighteen years of marriage.

"What's the matter, hm?"

"Oh, nothing."

Bill tilted her chin up so that she was facing him. "Don't even _try_ that with me, love. I'm not one of the kids, and I'm not Ethel - although I think _she_ sees right through you, too," he smiled. "Something's eating away at your keen mind, and neither of us will get a wink of sleep until you spill it."

She leaned over and kissed his chest. "It's Elsie," she whispered.

"Elsie? Is she alright? Charles hasn't said anything."

"Oh, no, I'm sure she's fine." She patted his arm, then entwined their fingers over his chest. "It's just … well, this thing with Tommy … oh, I'm being foolish."

"I doubt it. You're rather perceptive, love. What about Tommy is bothering you?"

"It's not him. Not exactly, anyhow," Beryl said. "Only, having him at the house … well, I can't help but get the feeling that it's not a temporary situation - not in her mind, anyhow."

"Do you think she wants to adopt him?" Bill asked incredulously.

"I'm not sure," Beryl said thoughtfully, "but that I don't think she'd deal well if he went elsewhere."

"Perhaps not," he mused.

Beryl listened to the clock ticking; she sighed as Bill pulled her impossibly closer.

"She's different lately," Beryl said after a while. "She's acting … well, like how a _mother_ acts," she whispered.

"Well, now, that's no great surprise, is it? She's always had it in her, you know that."

"Perhaps. It's just that this isn't quite the route I pictured for her."

"What do you mean?" Bill asked slowly.

She raised herself up on her arm and looked down into his eyes.

"She wants it all, love. She wants Daisy and Tommy and Charles … and, unless I'm horribly mistaken, she still dreams of having a wee babe of her own."

"Aw, but she can't … can she?"

Beryl raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "Who knows? She had such trouble before, but that could easily have been Joe's fault."

"True. But, Beryl … surely she's given up on that by now."

"That's what bothers me," she admitted. "I could be very, very wrong, but I don't think she _has."_

* * *

"Morning, Phyllis," Joseph said quietly from her doorway.

Phyllis looked up as a brilliant smile broke out on her face. "Well, good morning." She checked her watch. "It's been … what, six hours since you wished me that?"

He came in and closed the door before taking the seat next to her desk. Reaching out, he laid his hand palm-side up, and she put her own inside of it.

"I wish you'd stayed," he whispered, "but, at the same time, I'm glad you didn't."

She looked at his face, examining it as he stared resolutely at their hands; she noticed the redness that crept up his neck and over his jaw and ears.

"I understand, but I am happy we're on the same page regarding the _waiting._ I don't wish to compromise your standards."

He met her gaze then, trying to discern if she were teasing him, realizing he should have known better. "I just like to do things … traditionally," he managed.

"Well, then, I hope a fair few more late-night movie dates are in my future, Joseph."

He thought back to his bedroom - the nightstand, specifically, and the small, black, velvet box that currently resided within it.

 _This summer,_ he told himself. _You'll do it this summer, after school is out._

"How's Friday?" he grinned. "But in town. _The Age of Adaline_ opens then."**

"Perfect. Dinner first?"

"You bet."

He kissed the back of her hand and got up to leave.

"Joseph?" Phyllis called after him softly, rising from her chair to meet him by the door as he turned.

"Yes?"

She reached up and cupped his cheek. "You are a man of integrity and honor. I know you try to keep that hidden, but it shines out from every part of you for those of us who care to see. I appreciate it."

She leaned in and kissed him softly, albeit quickly.

"I do love you," she whispered.

He grinned soppily at her. "I know you do, Phyl. I love you, too."

A knock on the door interrupted them, and they broke apart quickly so that Phyllis could open the door.

"Sorry to intrude," Edith said kindly, "but your ten o'clock is sitting in the office. She's _never_ early, either, so I thought I'd come and fetch you."

Joseph furrowed his brow, but Phyllis seemed perfectly at ease.

"Just a reconvene for a student," she assured him. "And the parent is happy, not eager to attack. I'll see you later."

"Alright," he agreed, leaving the door open behind him.

"How are you?" Phyllis asked Edith.

"Feeling really well," Edith said, holding the door for Phyllis as they passed through to the hallway. "Second trimester just started, and I've got more energy and am actually keeping food on the _inside,_ which is a nice bonus."

"Good."

"Let me know how that goes," Edith said, tilting her head toward where the parent was waiting.

"Will do."

* * *

Elsie poured two hefty measures of brandy into the snifters on the counter. She carried them down through the sunroom and out onto the patio. The light from the sun was filtering through the trees but not quite making it to the pond, which rippled with blackness in the shade of the leaves.

"Here you are," she said, handing one of the glasses over.

Mary took it gratefully and nodded, then turned her attention back to the pond; Elsie sat beside her in the chair Mary had thoughtfully dragged over, one that was straighter and easier to get in and out of than the Adirondack*** Mary had chosen for herself.

"Your duck is back," Mary said, pointing to the underbrush across the pond. "Daisy showed me earlier. She said it's nesting."

Elsie glanced over at the duck and then stole a glance at Mary. She was pleased to find a small smile on Mary's face, something that only Daisy had been able to bring out these past couple of weeks.

"She'd better be careful, too," Elsie murmured. "There was a fox out last night."

Mary sipped her brandy and sat back in the chair, letting the glass rest snugly in her hand. She'd lost a bit of weight, and Elsie was concerned for the girl. They'd taken to having her over a couple of times a week, a plan which was threefold: Daisy got to see her aunt, Mary could get to know Tommy a bit, and Elsie and Charles could make sure she ate a good dinner and went home with leftovers for lunch the following day.

"Thank you for taking care of me," Mary almost whispered, as if she'd been reading Elsie's thoughts. "I didn't expect to be saddened by the funeral last week. I thought … well, I suppose I thought I'd be relieved. Closure and all that. The insurance has come through and reconstruction is beginning on the newspaper building; I'm living in a beautiful, safe place. I'm safe _myself_ for the first time in a long time …" She gazed into the deep amber liquid again. "I don't know what's the matter with me," she admitted, her voice wavering.

Elsie reached over and took Mary's empty hand, squeezing it before she let it go again.

"You've been through such a shocking set of life-altering events. Even if you feel you should be relieved, the dealing with it is very draining. Don't sell yourself short, Mary. You _are_ going to get to the other side of it all … eventually."

Mary looked over at her. "And you and Uncle Charlie are going to keep an eye on me until I do, I suppose?" she said wryly.

"Daisy would never forgive us if we didn't," Elsie smiled.

"Mm, I suppose not." Mary sighed, sipping her drink once again; Elsie remained silent, knowing something important was at work in the younger woman's mind. _Probably working out what to say about Tommy,_ she thought.

But, not for the first time, Mary surprised her.

"She adores you, you know," Mary said suddenly. "Daisy, I mean."

Elsie said nothing for a moment, and Mary was afraid she'd made her uncomfortable.

"I know she does," Elsie said eventually. "Charlie told me that once, too. I remember reassuring him that I adore her, too."

"It's clear you do. And, Elsie?"

Elsie looked up and saw the guilty look on Mary's face.

"Don't," she said. "I know what you're thinking, but it's unnecessary. You didn't know me then, not really. It's alright."

Mary nodded, grateful for Elsie's understanding.

"I was foolish then," Mary said eventually. "Wrapped up in my own misery; unwilling for others to be happy when I couldn't. I think I was hell-bent on making others miserable, too."

"I've been there," Elsie told her, eyebrows raised to reinforce her words. "I was that person, too. When Joe died … and maybe before. And a bit when I got here – when I met everyone," she said with a chuckle. "When I met _you."_

Mary laughed. "I remember that day," she said. "Town meeting, and I thought, 'Who in hell _is_ this woman, coming in and asking all these questions?'"

Elsie laughed. "They needed asking," she insisted. "And we can agree to disagree on _that,_ thank you."

"Fair enough." Mary stood and walked to the pond's edge, draining her glass as she did so.

"Thank you," she said again.

"Whatever for?" Elsie asked.

Mary turned to her. "For giving me another chance," she said.

"Well, Charlie adores you," Elsie said simply.

"Yes, he does. That's worth more to me than you could possibly know," Mary murmured.

"Oh," Elsie answered softly. "Don't count on that."

Mary turned to face her once again, smiled, and nodded, the understanding of exactly what Charles Carson's love was worth passing between them in a monumental flash.

* * *

 **Next up: Memorial service and school vacation.**

 **I love reading your thoughts - please leave a review if you feel so inclined. An enormous THANK YOU to all of you lovely, lovely reviewers. I wish I could reply to all of the Guest reviewers! Your kind thoughts and words have kept me going. (And to the person who sobbed and snorted her way through the last chapter … sorry/not sorry? I always take those comments to mean I did my job, and so I thank you.) :)**

 _ ***HIPPA: Health Insurance Portability and Privacy Act. In the States, patients routinely update information such as health insurance company and policy number, primary care physician, name, address, and health care proxy. Signed forms are required to allow physicians to share a patient's confidential medical information with other physicians.**_

 _ ****'The Age of Adaline' really did open that weekend - April 24, 2015.**_

 _ *****Adirondack chairs are beautiful, and they are everywhere in coastal New England. They're also pretty hard to get out of, and someone with a healing back would**_ _ **never**_ _ **be in one. See the cover image of this story if you're not quite sure what they are. :)**_


	44. You Can Sing This Song When I'm Gone

**A/N: The memorial service here is held at Misty Cove Congregational. I'm a Unitarian, not a Congregationalist, so to avoid making a mess out of it we're just focusing on the parts that involve Tommy directly. The song that will be sung as part of the memorial is on my Spotify, on the playlist "After the Fall."**

 **If you're into the feels, listen to the song on Spotify or YouTube when you get to that part of the chapter. It's more moving that way. The title is "You Can Close Your Eyes," and it's sung by James Taylor (on YouTube, lol, not here).**

 **On an unrelated note, there are faint hints here about Tommy (and others) beginning to question his sexuality. I'm sorry if that seems to be a bit early to any readers - sixth grade, almost seventh - but, as someone who works with adolescents, I can assure you that it isn't.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Friday, April 24, 2015**_

Elsie got a call from Edith midway through Friday morning.

"Edith! How are you?"

" _I'm alright, thanks. But Tommy's not. He got in a fight in the cafeteria at breakfast, and I'm sending him home. I know he's going through quite a lot, Els, but I have to suspend him for two days."_

"He _what?_ With whom?"

 _"One of the kids in eighth, actually. Philip Crowborough. Wouldn't tell me what it was about, though."_

"Well," Elsie said, pursing her lips, "Philip is a troublemaker, no question about it. Who instigated it?"

 _"Not sure. Tommy wouldn't say anything beyond a few choice words about the boy. I gather they have some sort of history, but I have no idea what it is. Tommy refused to answer most of my questions, and I didn't want to press him."_

"Alright. Charles is in the shower; when he gets out, I'll send him right down to pick Tommy up."

 _"That's fine. I know the service is tomorrow, and we'll see you there. I'm sorry, Elsie, but I had no choice."_

"No, I understand. Don't be sorry. He needs to understand that there are rules to be followed. It's an awful time for him, but that can't excuse this type of thing. We'll talk to him."

 _"Thanks. I'll have Tommy in my office when Charlie gets here, and will have him get his work, too."_

"Great. See you tomorrow, Edith."

 _"Bye."_

Elsie clicked off the phone and tossed it across the sofa, frustrated.

 _Welcome to parenting a teenager,_ she thought, rubbing the heels of her hands against her forehead. She had a pretty good idea what Tommy and Philip had been fighting about, too … but _that_ was a bridge their little family _wouldn't_ be crossing over in the next week.

* * *

Tommy had come home and headed immediately into his room, shutting the door behind him and plopping down on the bed. Elsie walked away from his bedroom door and grabbed Charles gently by the elbow, taking him with her as she made her way down to the sunroom.

"Are you just going to let him hide in there?" he whispered angrily. "Elsie, this kind of behavior cannot happen!"

"You just sit and take some deep breaths and calm down," she insisted, waving a hand at him when he was about to protest. "No," she added emphatically. "Pour the tea. Please."

He looked at the tray she'd indicated but pursed his lips, adding the milk to her cup before pouring hers.

"We'll talk to him eventually," she acquiesced, sitting beside him on the loveseat. "I daresay you gave him enough of a talking-to in the car?"

He looked up at her raised eyebrow and met it with one of his own.

"I'll have you know that I didn't say one word about it in the car."

 _That_ took her by surprise. "Truly?"

Charles nodded. "I thought it would be good to give him space. I asked him if he wanted to talk about it; he declined. That was the end of our conversation."

"Well," Elsie said, taking the proffered teacup and sipping the hot liquid carefully, "good on you, my darling. Lesson number one of dealing with teenagers: give them their space."

He clinked his cup to hers and smirked. "I learn from the best," he quipped. "But we'll speak to him before dinner, correct?"

Elsie laughed. "It's not even lunchtime yet, Charlie. We'll get him then, hm?"

"Agreed."

* * *

As it happened, Tommy was somewhat more forthcoming at lunch. He didn't say much, but he _did_ give up the information that he and Philip had experienced some sort of falling out after what Tommy had presumed was a decent friendship.

Elsie saw a very confused boy in front of her as he spoke, and she filed it away with her other suspicions surrounding Philip and Tommy's friendship.

Tommy looked up suddenly as he finished his sandwich. "Ten o'clock tomorrow, right? We'll be there at nine thirty?"

"Yes," Elsie confirmed, cocking her head as she looked at him. "What's the matter?"

"I'll need help with the necktie," he said quietly, looking embarrassed.

Elsie gave Charles a pointed look, forcing him to speak.

"Why don't I show you when we're done here," he said kindly. "I think you'll get it pretty quickly. It just takes practice."

"Okay … That's good ... Okay," Tommy said haltingly, nodding as if to affirm the feeling.

Elsie cleaned up the kitchen as Charles sent Tommy to grab his tie. They'd gone shopping for a suit two days previous, and Charles had been proud to have helped the boy pick out a nicely cut, navy blue suit with a soft blue necktie. They'd chosen a shirt and shoes to match, and while Tommy had been mortified to admit he had nothing appropriate to wear for the memorial service, that discomfort seemed to have been superseded by his desire to look his best as he bid a final farewell to his Mum.

"Shall I bring the shirt, too?" he called down the hall.

"Yes. Good idea," Charles replied.

As the light was much better and the mirror bigger, they'd gone into Elsie and Charles's room for the lesson. Tommy was looking around at the books on the shelf, smiling as he realized that Elsie really _did,_ in fact, read quite a few horror novels. He'd have to see her about borrowing something for their trip to … wherever it was they were going. Charles still hadn't told them, wanting it to be a surprise for the kids.

Charles grabbed a necktie of his own from one of the hangers in the closet.

"How many of those things do you have?" Tommy asked incredulously, seeing the racks.

Charles laughed. "Over thirty," he admitted. "But I _was_ an attorney - never liked to wear the same one more than once a month or so."

"That's mad," Tommy muttered, shaking his head.

"It probably is," Charles said, chuckling again. "Alright, here we go." He stood beside Tommy in front of the mirror and had him put the collared shirt on, showing him how to stand the collar up and wrap the tie around it.

"You don't want the ends even, because you'll be wrapping this one around the other," Charles said, picking up the wider end of the tie, "so you need that to hang down a bit more. You wrap it around like this, twice …"

Step by step, Charles showed Tommy what to do, proud of the boy's concentration as he followed each step precisely.

"Then you pull it through snugly, and you can adjust it here," Charles said, tightening his own knot and watching as Tommy did the same.

"Like this?" Tommy asked, rather happy with the fact that it didn't look like his tie had been done up by a three-year-old.

"Well done!" Charles praised, clapping him on the back. "That's nearly perfect. You're sure you've not done this before?"

"Positive," Tommy confirmed, "but I'm good with my hands, and I learn these types of things quickly. It's the _school_ things that I have trouble with."

Charles hummed a bit and nodded. "Like the clock. I still can't thank you enough for showing me how to fix that _and_ wind it properly. That was amazing."

"It was the least I could do," Tommy mumbled.

"Tommy," Charles said after a moment, unraveling his tie and indicating for Tommy to do the same, "you don't have to do anything _special_ for Elsie or for me … You know that, don't you? I mean, we ask that you and Daisy both help out around the house and the farm, but you don't owe us anything _extra."_

Tommy's gaze bored a hole in the floor. "I don't know about that," he whispered. "You've done so much for me."

"And that is because we _want_ to have you here," Charles said softly. "We _like_ you, Tommy. You're a good lad and you show a lot of promise." He sighed, seeing he wasn't quite getting through. "We think you're _worth_ doing things for … and we think that, with the right help and with people you can count on, you'll truly make something of yourself."

Tommy smiled sadly, wiping at his eyes. "Mum used to tell me that," he said, sniffling. "She was the only one who ever did. She believed in me, no matter what I ever did to upset or disappoint her."

"Well," Charles said with a small smile, "now you have _us_ to _remind_ you of it."

"And you really want me to live with you … be part of your family?" Tommy asked, for what must have been the hundredth time that week.

"We really do," Charles said honestly, holding out his hand. "I promise. And I don't lie. _Not ever."_

Tommy hesitated a moment, then shook Charles's hand. He almost gave the man a hug, but the handshake seemed a bit more formal in a way, a better symbol of a promise made and accepted.

"Okay."

Elsie had been watching them from the hallway, and she snuck back into the kitchen and wiped at her eyes with a tissue. Charles found her in the sunroom ten minutes later, standing by the window and looking out over the pond.

"The lesson is finished," he said as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissing the back of her head.

"So I heard," she said, her voice thick with emotion. She turned in his arms and placed a firm kiss to his lips. "You're perfect, do you know that?"

"Why?"

Elsie smiled at his furrowed brow and reached up to smooth it with her fingers.

"You're perfect for _each other,_ you two. He's never had a decent, proper father, and you've never had a son to teach things to."

"He's hardly my son, Elsie," he sighed.

She smiled knowingly. "Well, perhaps one day."

"Perhaps," he allowed. "If this situation works for him, and if it's ever something he wants, then of course we could discuss making it more … permanent. But I don't mean to put the cart before the horse, and neither should you. For now, I think this needs to be a temporary arrangement, and we need to agree not to push _Tommy_ into something he's not ready for, alright?"

"I promise," she said, eerily echoing his conversation with Tommy. It wasn't lost on Charles.

"You're a horrible spy," he joked.

"Well, that's quite nice, really ... isn't it?" she asked.

Tommy listened in on their conversation from where he stood in the kitchen. He'd just poured himself a glass of milk, and he didn't want them to know he was listening in. He knew he was already skating on thin ice after getting in a fight and being suspended two days from school, and he didn't want to give them another reason to be disappointed in him. But their conversation calmed him a bit. He'd spent so many years with his 'father' constantly telling him he wasn't wanted, that he wasn't good enough or wasn't going to amount to anything; it was strange hearing other people insist that he _was_ those things.

It had been oddly comforting having Charles show him how to do up the tie properly. Tommy knew he'd mastered it, although he'd allow himself a bit of extra time in the morning just to be sure. But it had been the sound of the man's voice - patient, kind, instructing but not demeaning - that had struck Tommy; that, and watching Charles maneuver his huge hands to manage the task with slow, controlled movements. Tommy had looked at those hands and realized what damage they could do, and yet he was starting to understand that he didn't have to think in those terms anymore. Not here, and hopefully not anywhere ever again.

He drank down his milk, rinsed the glass, and put it in the dishwasher. Tiptoeing back to his room, he stole a glance down to the sunroom. Elsie and Charles were standing by the window and looking out, and Tommy saw Charles rubbing his hand softly over Elsie's shoulder. He smiled again at the comforting gesture, happy that he was safe here … in this home where it seemed that he was, indeed, wanted and liked for who he was.

He hung up his shirt and tie and pulled out the eulogy he'd written for his Mum. He'd insisted on speaking himself, knowing Mrs. Kent would never have been able to do it and that no one else in town really _knew_ his Mum all that well. He crossed out a few words and added something to the end, then reread the entire thing. He managed to read it silently without crying, and then went back and read the whole thing in a whisper, tearing up once but managing to control it.

 _So far, so good,_ he thought, folding up the paper once again and tucking it into the mug. He set the items on his bedside table and dragged his backpack up onto the bed, opening it and pulling out his Humanities novel. He'd been sent home with assignments for all of his classes and figured he'd get them done now as he had nothing else to do. Elsie and Charles had been kind but fair about his suspension; seeing as how his television privileges had been revoked, and they weren't leaving on the trip Charles had planned until Sunday, he needed _something_ to do to fill the boredom.

 _Might as well read,_ he said, opening his book and settling back against the pillows.

* * *

 ** _Saturday, April 25, 2015_**

The church was, quite unexpectedly, about three-quarters full when Tommy, Elsie, Charles, and Daisy took their seats in the front pew. Directly behind them were seated Julia and Jimmy Kent and, next to them, Mary Carlisle.

Charles spotted Andy at the front of the chapel and went to have a word. "Be right back," he said to Elsie, who nodded.

"Mr. Carson - sorry, _Charles,"_ Andy said, shaking the older man's hand. "How's everyone doing?"

"About as well as you'd expect," Charles replied quietly. "Listen, Andy, I need to ask you about a couple of things. Might you have some free time at the end of the week?"

"Sure. Does Friday work? I'm free all of that afternoon, actually." He hazarded a glance at Elsie, who was busy going over something with the minister. "I'm guessing one of the things you want to discuss is shiny, red, and parked at my place of employment?" he grinned.

"It _is,_ as a matter of fact. But there's something else, too. I'll come by after lunch, then?"

"Sure thing," Andy replied.

Charles went back to his seat and noticed a curious glance from Tommy.

"Everything alright with the guitar?" the boy asked, and Charles nodded.

"I'm sure it is," he said. "He's just finishing tuning it now. It's a beauty, Tommy. What a lovely idea to ask him to play it for your Mum."

"She loved it," Tommy whispered. "Used to play it for me all the time before bed."

Just then, the piano music filtered through the sanctuary. Everyone took their seats, and Elsie reached over and squeezed Tommy's hand.

"Alright?" she whispered, and he nodded.

Charles watched with a keen eye as the service unfolded. He felt a certain responsibility to make sure it all went according to plan, despite the fact that Elsie, Tommy, and Julia Kent had been the ones to plan the thing. He realized after a few minutes of listening to the minister speak that it was his family he was most worried about: the effect the memorial service would have on Daisy, it being the second she'd attended in just over a week, both drastic reminders of losing Alice; the way Elsie was concerned about Tommy; the effect it would all have on _Mary,_ who was still reeling over going through all of this with Richard; the way in which Tommy seemed to be reacting to what appeared to be almost half the town showing up at today's service, when only a scant few had been at Richard's. None of them had known Laura Barrow well at all; no, this was a testament to how much they cared for _Tommy,_ and it had clearly flustered the young man who was trying so hard to hold it together and just make it through this day.

After the prayer and readings had been delivered, the minister nodded to Tommy. Charles noticed Tommy stiffen beside him, the fear emanating off of the boy in waves.

"Tommy," Charles rumbled, "look at me."

Tommy obeyed, looking Charles directly in the eyes.

"You can do this," Charles encouraged quietly. "You're well-prepared, and no one sitting in this church is better qualified to speak of your mother's virtues than you are. If you're nervous, it's perfectly alright. If you start to feel shaky, just look at me, Daisy, and Elsie, and we'll steady you ... I _promise,"_ he said meaningfully.

"Not a lie," Tommy whispered.

"Not a lie," Charles confirmed.

Tommy looked at Elsie, who smiled lovingly at him and nodded. He stood up, took the mug and the paper within it, and headed to the small pulpit off to the side of the altar. The minister helped him set the mug atop the lectern, ensuring it wouldn't topple over, and adjusted the microphone before taking his seat.

Tommy looked out over the sea of people before him: a few schoolmates; a lot of teachers, along with Miss Baxter and Mrs. Pelham; some people from the shops downtown; the Masons, the Bateses, and more. He swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced down at the table of photos that sat by the altar in lieu of a coffin ( _that_ was already at the graveside for the private burial, which would only be attended by Tommy, Elsie and Charles, Daisy, Mary, and Julia and Jimmy). The only photo visible to him from where he stood was the one that now resided on the shelf in his new room, and it made him smile. He looked at Charles, who nodded minutely, enabling Tommy to gather his courage and begin.

"Laura Barrow was my Mum, and she was just about the kindest woman on the planet. There are a lot of you here today. Thank you for coming. I think she'd be surprised at how many people are sitting out there, actually." There was a hint of amusement in his sadness as he said that, and a few people smiled up at him.

"I wanted to talk today because I realize that, except for Jimmy and Mrs. Kent, not many of you really _knew_ my Mum. I thought I'd tell you some things about her, so that maybe when you leave you'll feel like you knew her a bit better.

"Mum was born August 25, 1984, in New Haven, Connecticut. Her parents moved there from England before she was born, because my Granddad got a job working at the New England Clock Company.* I didn't see him much growing up. I used to think it was because Mum was young when she had me, and it had upset him, but now I think it's just that the man who used to be my father didn't want him around."

Tommy heard an audible gasp and a murmur of confusion as he said that, but another glance at Charles fortified him. He realized he was doing what Charles and Elsie modeled all the time: telling the truth, no matter how difficult.

He continued, "Granddad taught me everything he knew about clocks, and the one he gave Mum when she was little is in my room now. It, along with the mug that you see here -" he said, pointing at the mug, "- are two of my favorite things. The guitar over there," he added, pointing to where Andy sat, the guitar on the stand by his feet, "is the other. They were Mum's favorite possessions, and now they're mine."

Tommy paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Mum had her problems, as I'm sure some of you know. Some people used to like to talk about her, and that's okay, because I think people _always_ gossip about things they don't understand. I can promise you that the Laura you think _you_ knew was not the one that _I_ knew, or that Mrs. Kent knew."

Charles watched Tommy with a growing sense of pride in his chest; the boy was being so very brave, and Charles heard a whispered, "No, she wasn't … Good for you, Tommy," come from behind him. He reached over where Tommy had been sitting and grasped Elsie's hand, noting that she had her other arm around Daisy.

"The Laura Barrow that _I_ knew was kind, quiet, and very smart. She used to read all the time, two or three books a week sometimes. She didn't work outside of the house, so she was always home when I needed her. I'm not really good at lots of stuff at school, but Mum was always able to help me with homework when I needed her to. She loved it when I got a new book in Humanities. No matter what it was, she would have already read it, and she'd remember a lot about the story and be able to help me when I had questions.

"We never had a lot of money, but when I was little I never felt like I was missing out on stuff. I had classmates who took nice vacations and went to far-away places, but we never did that. Still, we had our own things we did at home. We'd have campfires and make s'mores, or we'd go for walks in the woods or on the beach. Mum collected shells, and she'd always bring one back and say it would be to remind her of the nice day we'd had. She always made me feel special; even when she couldn't afford to get me much on my birthday, she'd always wake me up with a song and a huge hug, and she'd make me breakfast."

Charles saw Tommy's small nod in their direction, a silent acknowledgement of how Tommy's last birthday had been observed by his new family, too, before they really knew him; at the same time, he heard Daisy's small gasp, and a whispered, "Birthday breakfast," and his heart felt a pang when he saw Elsie lean over and place a kiss to his daughter's head, her arm squeezing Daisy tightly in a hug. He took his own deep, steadying breath and turned his attention back to Tommy.

"Mum loved music. She used to sing all the time, not just on my birthday. I think my first memory ever is of her sitting at the foot of my bed with that guitar," he said, pointing to it again, "singing the song that Mr. Parker is going to sing once I'm done talking. Mum used to sing me to sleep with it. When I was older, and we'd have a … well, a rough day, she'd sing it to me before bed then, too. It was our thing. A few of you might know it. If you do, you can sing along with him. I don't think Mum would mind." He almost lost control of his emotions then, and took a moment to stare at Charles; true to his promise, Charles stared right back, his body visibly moving as he breathed deeply and silently encouraged Tommy to do the same.

"Whenever I'd have a bad day," he continued, picking up the mug from the lectern, "Mum would make me cocoa. She'd bring it to me in this mug, which we got when I was five. We'd gone away with my Granddad for the day to the York Beach, and he'd bought it for her from a gift shop. It eventually became mine, in a way ... Well, it is now, I suppose."

Tommy looked out over the crowd again, and then he glanced down at the bit of writing he'd added only last night. He looked at Elsie, Daisy, Charles … and Mary.

"I never stopped to think of what would happen to me if Mum wasn't here to take care of me. I didn't know until recently that the man I thought of as my 'father' wasn't really my father at all. But I'm lucky. I _have_ a family who wants to take care of me, and there are other kids out there who don't have that. Elsie and Charles, and Daisy … they've been kind to me, taking me in when others weren't able to do so. Between them and the Kents, and my new aunt, it's pretty special. I have a new place to call home, and while Mum can't be there with me in person, I know she'd have approved. She had a lot of respect for Elsie … for what she'd done in the past to try and help us out when we needed it."

Charles looked over at Elsie at the same time Tommy did, and he saw some silent understanding pass between them. It gave him a surge of pride, feeling once again how lucky he was to be marrying her.

"I'm in a place now that's kind, and calm, and sure," Tommy said. "I don't think Mum could have picked a better spot for me to stay if she'd tried, and I'm grateful, I really am. She was a kind, sweet, thoughtful woman, my Mum … and I'm going to miss her."

He gathered up his papers and the mug and carefully stepped down, nodding to Andy on his way by and then taking his seat.

"Well, done, my boy," Charles praised him. "Very well done."

Tommy nodded, and he looked to his right as Elsie handed him a handkerchief and gave him a soft smile. He noted that Daisy was crying softly, that Aunt Mary seemed to be a bit choked up behind where he sat, and that Mrs. Kent was silently sobbing.

The first notes of the song came across the strings of the guitar, followed soon after by Andy's voice:

 _Well the sun is surely sinking down_

 _But the moon is slowly rising_

 _So this old world must still be spinning 'round_

 _And I still love you_

 _So close your eyes_

 _You can close your eyes, it's all right_

 _I don't know no love songs_

 _And I can't sing the blues anymore_

 _Oh, but I can sing this song_

 _And you can sing this song when I'm gone ..._

As Andy played, Charles began to listen to the people gathered behind him; a few were humming, and several joined in softly as Andy finished the song. By the last two verses, Elsie had joined in as well. Charles didn't think he could manage, however, choosing instead to remain as much a pillar of strength as he possibly could for his family.

 _It won't be long before another day_

 _We gonna have a good time_

 _And no one's gonna take that time away_

 _You can stay as long as you like_

 _So close your eyes_

 _You can close your eyes, it's all right_

 _Oh, I don't know no love songs_

 _And I can't sing the blues anymore_

 _But I can sing this song_

 _Yes, and you can sing this song when I'm gone._

Tommy was sobbing by the time Andy finished, but he didn't care anymore. He had Elsie's and Charles's arms around him, and Daisy had gone to sit on her father's lap at some point during the song; the soft sound of Elsie's singing registered somewhere in his mind. Tommy felt quite literally wrapped up in their love; it was a familiar feeling for him - similar to how he'd always felt when his Mum would hug him tightly and assure him everything would be alright. He believed her back then … and knew he could believe Charles as he was whispering those same words now; Charles had _promised,_ and Tommy decided to simply believe him, to trust in someone as a father figure one last time, knowing already that he could count on this _new_ man so much more than he'd ever have been able to count on his 'father' - the man who, Tommy decided once and for all, was nothing to him anymore.

* * *

 _ **Wednesday, April 29, 2015**_

"Daisy, watch out for Max!" Elsie called across the beach.

"I will," Daisy laughed, splashing in the water as she ran. She had a good grip on Max's retractable leash, but she was letting him run in and out of the water as he and Tommy played with the frisbee.

"How are you holding up?" Charles asked, reaching out and taking Elsie's hand and placing a kiss to her wrist.

"Tired," she said truthfully, "but it's been a fabulous getaway. The kids must be freezing in the water!"

"Ah, they're kids. They live for the beach - didn't you?"

"I suppose so. Whatever made you think to come to Newport?"**

"Well, there are the mansions, of course," he said. "I knew _someone_ would want to see Rosecliff** and compare it to the movie."

"It was wonderful," came Becky's voice from where she was lying on the blanket. "Thanks for bringing me, Charlie. It's been a fun vacation!"

"And you're exhausted, too, my darling," Elsie said as she brushed a lock of hair off of Becky's forehead. "I think we should prepare everyone at the home for the fact that you'll be sleeping soundly for at least a week!"

"I'll miss you," Becky sniffled, "but I really miss Mags and Martha. Do you think they'll like what I got for them?"

"I do, Becky. It was very thoughtful of you," Elsie reassured her, knowing the lovely drawing pad and pencils she'd chosen for Martha would be perfect, and that Mags would adore the pin Becky picked out.

Elsie's cell phone rang. She dug it out of her bag and checked the caller ID.

"It's Vyner," she said. Charles stood, and Elsie put her hand out so that he could help her get up.

"Let's hope it's good news," he said, not really believing it could possibly be true, that the nightmare of the fire could finally be nearing its end.

"Hello?" Elsie said.

 _"Elsie? It's Chief Vyner. Sorry, Willis said you're on vacation."_

"No, it's fine. Is there any news?"

 _"She'll be indicted next week, Elsie. Made a full confession. It's over."_

"She admitted to it all? What prompted that?" Elsie let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding, and felt Charles's hand at the small of her back, grateful he was there holding her up.

 _"We found her brother's body last night. Suicide - hanging, in his closet. Not pretty; he'd been there four days, the ME reckons. Left a note for his sister, and we found other correspondence between them, too, outlining most of the rest. Crazy, the both of them."_

"My God," Elsie whispered, her hand covering her mouth. "How awful. And Mary knows?"

 _"Yes, just off the phone with her. If you could come by the station when you return to Misty Cove, we just have a few questions for you."_

"Alone?" Elsie asked, hoping they'd not be asking her to bring Becky.

 _"That should be fine. I think you can answer any questions I have without your sister having to be present. The letters we found were tucked into a journal of his; together, it's all been very … informative."_

Elsie noted the disgust that was evident in Vyner's voice. "Understood. I'll be back in town tomorrow, and I'll have Charles bring me by in the afternoon, if that suits?"

" _It does. See you then."_

He hung up before Elsie could reply, and she dropped the phone back in her bag before practically diving into Charles's embrace.

"It's over," she gasped, clutching onto his shirt as the wind whipped her hair around them both. "She's confessed, her brother is dead, and she'll be going to jail for a very, very long time, I think."

Charles drew in a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly. "Thank God," he murmured into her hair. "Thank God."

They broke apart as the sounds of Max and the children became louder, and they turned just in time to see Daisy and Tommy skid to a halt just before the blanket, somehow (miraculously) not covering Becky in a shower of sand and wet dog.

"Alright, everyone dry off!" Charles instructed. "Time to drop Max off at the hotel, and then we're going out for a nice meal to mark our last day of vacation."

"And then we can stop at the candy shoppe and get the orange cremes?" Becky asked excitedly.

"Yes, love," Elsie replied with a chuckle. "We can."

* * *

 _ **Please do leave me a review and let me know your thoughts. :) Much appreciated! x**_

* * *

 _ ***FF won't allow me to directly paste a website, but if you Google "New England Clock Company" you'll see that this is a real place, and they are still in business today.**_

 _ ****Newport, RI - home to the Rosecliff Mansion, along with several others. Rosecliff was the mansion where "The Great Gatsby" (Robert Redford version, 1974) was filmed - something which Becky and Charles, lovers of literature, would appreciate. There's a great little community in Newport, and lots of fun activities for families.**_


	45. Daisy's Birthday

**A/N: Undying gratitude to brenna-louise, who is just lovely and who continues to put up with this fic. xxx**

* * *

 _ **Friday, May 15, 2015**_

The weeks after vacation had proven to be a trial for Elsie in more ways than one. She had returned to work but was much more sore and achy than she'd anticipated, and she'd had to resort to a prescription level of ibuprofen from Richard to get her through the day. She also had been given a smaller version of the back brace, which didn't restrict her from bending completely but which _did_ prevent her from overexerting her muscles. All in all, she considered herself lucky, because in addition to being at work she was also trying to put the finishing touches on a spectacular birthday party for Daisy, and Elsie just couldn't afford to be out of commission for that.

The phone on her desk rang and she snatched it up as she looked at the clock: _Only ten fifteen … sigh._

" _Hello, love,"_ came the deep voice on the other end.

"Charles! Everything okay?" she asked, tucking the phone under her chin as she typed a notation in a student's file.

" _Absolutely. Just off the phone with Beryl. The cake's done and she'll send Bill to get the rest of the decorations tonight. We'll head in for breakfast tomorrow, as usual. And as far as I know, Daisy still has no idea."_

"Perfect," she said with a sigh. "Bless you, darling, for finalizing all of that. So, tonight …"

" _Tonight will be a calm, quiet evening at home. I'll bring the kids to the store after school so you can get some rest. Daisy still thinks her party is happening on Sunday, so it makes sense to do some shopping."_

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" she asked.

" _Not since last night."_

Elsie flushed and turned around to be sure she was alone before replying, "Well, given that you're letting me rest this afternoon, maybe we can make _that_ happen again tonight."

She heard his soft chuckle and felt her heartbeat increase, hoping once again that she'd never lose that feeling.

" _Sounds good to me, love. See you after school."_

"Bye," she said softly, and she knew he heard the smile in her voice.

* * *

The end of the school day finally arrived; as promised, Charles dropped Elsie off at home and then took the kids shopping. Tommy was in on the surprise for Daisy's birthday, and Charles had to fight laughter as the boy just fed into the ruse.

"Daisy," Tommy said to her in the baking aisle, "how about cupcakes for Sunday?" He selected a box from the shelf that showed a vanilla cupcake with little colorful bits inside and sprinkles on top. "It makes two dozen - we should get two or three, yeah?"

Daisy nodded enthusiastically and Tommy began to add boxes of cupcake mix, frosting, and liners to the cart while Charles looked on.

Two aisles down, they stumbled upon the ice cream section.

"Oh, I love this one," Daisy said, reaching for the chocolate chip. "And Papa, don't you prefer this chocolate one?" She grabbed a half-gallon of the double chocolate fudge and handed it to him. "What about you, Tommy?"

Tommy picked black raspberry, and into the cart they all went. Charles was starting to regret this plan of his, knowing Elsie would be annoyed about all the junk food that was going to end up at the house because of their little surprise. _Still,_ he told himself, _it'll all keep._ Added to the ice cream went a jar of hot fudge, a pint of cream to whip up, and a jar of cherries.

 _Yes, Elsie_ _ **is**_ _going to kill you,_ Charles told himself again.

They went through the cashier's line and then loaded the groceries into the car, pushing aside the items they'd already gotten for the farm when they'd stopped at the feed store.

"Good thing you've got a big car," Tommy said. "Why not just take Elsie's truck?"

Daisy laughed. "Because this one always starts?" she quipped.

"I wanted to talk to you both about that," Charles said as he buckled his seat belt. "I've got a surprise to share with you, but you must absolutely promise not to tell Elsie - or anyone else, for that matter."

They promised, and he filled them in on his conversation with Andy.

"So she's getting the new truck next week?" Daisy asked.

"She is. That way it'll be a surprise. If I do it _on_ her birthday, or closer to it, she'll be suspicious. So what I need you two to do is distract her at the end of that day. I'll be swapping the trucks at one o'clock, but may be a bit late to get to school and pick you all up. I'll text you, Tommy, and let you know how much time I need. It'll be up to the two of you to see that you're late leaving, if need be."

"You got it," Tommy said with a smirk. "We can come up with _something_ sneaky, I'm sure."

Charles looked at Daisy in the rearview mirror and she nodded enthusiastically.

"You bet," she added with a smile.

* * *

"Kids all tucked in?" Charles asked from the loveseat, and Elsie nodded.

"They are. You know, sometimes I wonder why I have a living room. We never use it."

"Well," he answered, tilting his head up for a kiss, _"this_ room isn't directly outside of _their_ rooms," he acknowledged. "That could be one reason, perhaps?"

She giggled and sat down gingerly on his lap, accepting the glass of whisky he handed her.

"Sore?"

"Mm," she replied, "but this'll help. More than wine would have, I think." She gazed into his eyes appreciatively. "Thanks."

"You are more than welcome, love." He clinked their glasses together gently. "Here's to a successful breakfast at _The Cheeky Devil."_

They each took a sip and Elsie hummed with pleasure. "This is good," she mumbled. "I feel like we're going to need our strength for tomorrow."

He tilted his head in question. "You're not having second thoughts, are you? About not having it here? It'll be hard if you end up uncomfortable, not being able to leave."

"I'll just rest in Beryl's office if I need to - she's got a sofa in there." She reached her arm around his shoulders and carded her fingers through his hair, then rested her forehead on his. "I'll be fine, Charlie," she whispered. "You don't have to worry about me. It's Daisy's day, and I promise not to ruin it by injuring myself."

"I'm not worried about your ruining anything," he said seriously, pulling back so that he could see her eyes again. _"You,_ my dear, make everything we do _better._ And if you don't know that by now, then I'm doing a rather poor job of it on my end."

She blushed at the compliment but closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "Alright, if you say so," she said.

"I do," he said meaningfully. "And, in this, I insist that you trust me. You've added so much to my life that I can't imagine how I ever managed without you. You make me see things in ways I never did before, and you constantly strive to put my needs first. I've never had that," he whispered. "For heaven's sake, Els, you even planned Daisy's party – splendidly, I might add."

"And you do all of those things for me, you know. Clearly. We've discussed this, Charles … I think I have been _getting_ more from this arrangement that I've been _giving."_

"Physical assistance, cooking, and cleaning - I'll concede those things," he nodded diplomatically. "But as for the rest … well, perhaps we're even."

She smiled beautifully, _lovingly,_ and Charles reached to put down his glass before wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his, the need to sit up straight making itself known by the ache in her back.

They sat silently for a while, lost in their thoughts. Max stirred a bit in his bed by the door, and then he got up and went outside. When he came back in, Charles eased Elsie from his lap and collected the glasses as she turned off the lights.

When Charles caught up with her in the bedroom, she had removed her shoes and socks and had just unbuttoned her jeans. She heard him come in and turned to smile brilliantly at him, a rather mischievous look on her face. He placed his hands around her bare waist, then rubbed her back gently with his fingertips as she leaned forward and placed her forehead on his chest.

"So you gave me whisky and now you're trying to limber me up, Mr. Carson?" she teased. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you had plans."

"And if I did?" he replied in a whisper, allowing his lips to brush her ear as he said it. "You're not offended, are you?"

Elsie's heart raced as his warm breath blew the wisps of hair around her neck. "Oh, I can _assure_ you," she said, moving back to unbutton his shirt and place hot kisses to his throat and collarbone, "the very last thing in the world that I am at this moment is _'offended.'_ "

"Thank God," he whispered, backing up to take his shirt off and drop it on the floor before pulling her to him again. He reached up underneath her sweater and unclasped her bra, sliding his hands under the lace and around her torso, rubbing them over her breasts and relishing her pleasured gasp as he squeezed gently.

Finding herself temporarily speechless, Elsie turned her attentions to undoing his belt buckle and divesting him of his jeans and shorts.

"How is it … that I am ... now completely ... disrobed?" he asked, his words broken apart by a few passionate kisses.

Elsie backed up abruptly and raised her arms over her head, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Go ahead," she said teasingly. "I'm not stopping you."

The next several minutes involved Charles _very_ slowly undressing his beautiful fiancée, trailing faint kisses over each section of skin as he uncovered it and delighting in her gasps and murmured pleasure, which grew more determined as her pulse quickened.

Eventually she could stand it no more, and she grabbed his hips and pulled him toward her, earning a deep moan from him.

"Shh," she reminded him, silencing him with her mouth on his.

"Bed," he gasped, and she nodded, backing them up slowly and reaching behind her to pull down the blanket and sheets.

He assisted her with getting into the bed, making sure she wasn't twisting or moving too fast. She huffed impatiently, but he ignored it until she was settled and then joined her by her side.

No more words were spoken, each cognizant of the need to not be overheard by either of the children. Daisy always slept through the night, but Tommy had been sleeping somewhat erratically since he'd arrived; the bedroom door was locked, so they knew they'd at least not be interrupted, but being _overheard_ wouldn't do, either.

Elsie turned onto her side to face Charles, grasping his face in her hands and kissing him fiercely. He pulled her leg up onto his, glancing at her face in silent question, and she nodded. He gently slipped inside of her, eliciting another soft gasp of pleasure from his beloved.

Their movements were incredibly slow and deep, both from a need to remain quiet and a need to be as close to one another as possible. The past weeks had been fraught with angst, sadness, and fear interspersed with the busy nature of their regular lives, which had made the times during which they managed to sequester themselves away like this all the more meaningful.

At some point, Elsie realized she was lying on her back, and she tentatively reached her legs up and around Charles's thighs. Feeling no pain, she squeezed gently, encouraging him to move faster and deeper. He willingly obliged and, moments later, they tumbled over the edge together with a deep, satisfied sigh.

"Stay," she said immediately, "I'm fine."

Charles did as she asked, propping himself up on his elbows as he brushed her hair from her face with his fingertips.

"I love you," he told her, and she smiled adoringly at him as she trailed her foot up and down his leg. "I'd stay like this forever if we could."

"Mm, as would I, darling," she whispered, reaching her hand up to grasp his bicep and lifting her head for a kiss.

They kissed slowly and passionately, without a care in the world except for one another's pleasure in that moment. Eventually he slipped from her body but stayed above her for a while longer, each of them enjoying the other's kisses and caresses until the need for sleep became too great.

Charles got out of bed and handed Elsie her nightgown, which she dutifully put on before heading into the bathroom. She returned to the bedroom minutes later and unlocked the door, just in case the kids needed them during the night, and found Charles clad in his pajama pants and waiting for her in bed. She chuckled as he patted the mattress beside him, his eyelids already at half-mast.

"Somebody's tired," she said, getting in and caressing his face. "But I thank you for staying up with me."

"It was my pleasure," he assured her, moving onto his side and tucking one arm up and under her pillow while his other wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.

Elsie settled in and turned to ask him something, but he was already breathing deeply and regularly, a sure sign he'd fallen fast asleep. She smiled to herself and slid her body even more tightly against his before slipping into her own deep, dream-filled slumber.

* * *

 _ **Saturday, May 16, 2015**_

"Birthday breakfast!" Daisy yelled as she tore into Elsie and Charles's bedroom, skidding to a stop by his side of the bed.

"Mmph," he mumbled, feigning sleepiness.

"Come _on,_ Papa - I _know_ you're awake!"

She jumped up into the bed, careful to not land on Elsie, and squealed when Charles erupted from under the blankets and tickled her senseless as Elsie looked on and laughed.

"What in the world is going _on_ in there?" Tommy asked from the doorway.

"Oh, come on _in,_ Tommy," Daisy said with a roll of her eyes. "Just normal family stuff."

Up until this point, Tommy had resolutely _refused_ to set foot in their bedroom when they were actually _in_ the bed, but he felt like a fool just standing in the hall outside their door. Max came tearing into the house and straight into the bedroom, so Tommy followed.

"Good morning," Elsie said to him, brushing a tear of laughter from her eye. "I take it you were woken up early, too?"

Tommy mumbled something incoherent, but nodded. He glanced back at Elsie and then at Charles - her hair slightly mussed from sleep but _his_ all over the place after his tickle fight with Daisy - and laughed, shaking his head as he did so.

"Normal? This is _normal_ for around here?"

"Well," Charles acknowledged, "on Daisy's birthday, anything goes. Isn't that right, petal?" he added, kissing her nose.

Elsie caught Tommy's attention again. "It's my first 'Daisy birthday,' too, so we can experience it together." She winked at him.

"Alright," he replied warily. "But it's still odd seeing you in bed. That's … going to take some getting used to."

"Understood," she chuckled. "Go on, then. You can shower first if you like - Daisy already took hers last night. And then," she added with a wink that went unnoticed by Daisy, "I believe we're going out for breakfast."

* * *

"Surprise!"

Daisy stopped dead in her tracks after walking into the restaurant. _Everyone_ was there, it seemed to her: Beryl, William, and Ivy, then Aunt Mary and Aunt Edith, Bertie, and Marigold, John and Anna, a few friends from school, and … _Oh, my goodness! Is that …_

"Happy Birthday, Daisy," Miss Stephanie said as she gave the girl a hug. "You told me this was the place to go for breakfast on Saturday, and just _look_ at what I stumbled upon!"

She gave Daisy a wink and Daisy realized her teacher had been in on the surprise, too.

"Thank you," Daisy said, awestruck as Miss Stephanie handed her a small, wrapped gift. Daisy was certain she knew what it was, but she just handed it to her Papa as others came up to greet her.

Daisy spoke with Mr. Molesley and Miss Baxter next, then Mr. Parker came over with Ethel and Charlie, who gave Daisy a bear hug. Eventually the Carsons, Elsie, and Tommy made their way to a table in the middle of the room, which Beryl had decked out with a pink tablecloth and at which sat a chair that was adorned with huge, pink, glittery balloons.

"Daisy," Mary whispered, beckoning her closer as she grabbed one of the balloons. "Tap here," she instructed.

Daisy did so, and the balloon began to play music.

"Brilliant," Daisy gasped, delighted.

"Thanks for that," Elsie said with a laugh. "I'm sure Charlie will _love_ it."

"If you're speaking of that … _thing,_ then I promise only that I will remember who is responsible for sending it to our house," he grumbled. But he cheered somewhat as Mary placed a kiss to his cheek.

"Sorry," she said with a smirk. "But it's her _birthday,_ so …"

"Yeah, I know."

"Happy Birthday, love," Beryl said from behind Daisy. The girl whipped around and flung herself into Beryl's arms.

"Thank you so much," she whispered into Beryl's ear. "Where's Mr. Mason? I don't see him."

"He had a little job to do for me, but he'll be here soon."

"Okay. Um … is that my _cake?"_ Daisy asked, peeking over Beryl's shoulder to a table in the corner.

"It is," Beryl replied. "Shall we go and check it out?"

Daisy nodded, and Beryl took her by the hand and led her to the cake table. On it sat the most beautiful cake Daisy had ever seen. It was a large, two-layer sheet cake. The frosting was green to look like grass, and Beryl had crafted a fence out of chocolate and had placed it, standing up, around the edges. Inside of the fencing were 'bales of hay' made of frosting-covered crispy rice treats, and there was a plastic toy horse standing by one of the bales, its head bent down so that it appeared he was eating the hay.

"The hay is a crispy rice treat, so you can eat it, but the horse isn't," Beryl told her. "We'll wash it off after we serve the cake and you can take it home."

"Can we eat the fence?" Daisy asked, and Beryl laughed softly.

"We can," she said. "I've saved the extra that didn't fit on the cake for your Papa, too," she added with a wink. "It's in the kitchen."

"This is really pretty," Daisy gushed. "Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome, love," Beryl said fondly. She smoothed her hand over Daisy's hair and placed a kiss to her forehead. "Let's get some breakfast first though, alright? After all, isn't that why you're here?"

Daisy laughed as they returned to the crowd, and Charles rejoiced in seeing her so happy.

"She's come a long way," Edith said from beside him, and he turned to her and smiled.

"It's like I have my old Daisy back," he agreed tearfully, and Edith reached over and squeezed his hand.

"I don't have to think too hard about why that is, do I?" she asked, following his gaze to where Elsie stood talking to Tom Branson. "She's truly remarkable. I'm so glad you've found each other, Uncle Charlie."

"She's changed my life," he said simply.

"Oh," Edith answered softly, "I can assure you, you've changed _hers,_ too."

A sudden gust of wind and the tinkling of bells made their way into the restaurant, followed by Bill Mason's voice.

"We're here!" he called out, and everyone turned to look where he stood.

"Auntie Becky!" Daisy cried, tearing across the restaurant and crashing into the woman with an enormous hug. "You came for my party?"

"Surprise!" Becky shouted, hugging Daisy back and kissing her cheeks. "Happy Birthday, little niece. Bill brought me," she explained.

Daisy looked up at Bill, wide-eyed, and said, "So _Auntie Becky_ was your 'job' today?"

"She was," Bill confirmed, his eyes twinkling. "Happy Birthday, love." He fluffed her hair a bit and then went to join his wife, leaving aunt and niece to catch up on the past few weeks.

* * *

"Breakfast followed by cake," Charles stated. "It's not right, I tell you."

"Oh, hush you. It's her _birthday,_ you know. And birthday breakfast seems to be everyone's tradition except mine, so you're welcome for that," Elsie said sarcastically.

"I know, and I love you for doing all this," he said, leaning down to kiss her temple. "So, now … presents?"

"Presents!" Tommy shouted from across the table. "Favorite part! Daisy?"

Daisy looked at him and nodded, her face lit up with excitement.

Elsie settled in across from Daisy, her phone's camera at the ready, and Tommy handed Daisy her gifts one at a time. She opened Miss Stephanie's first, and saw that it was …

" … _The BFG,"_ she said. She scanned the back of the book and then looked up at her teacher. "Thanks - this sounds great!"

"I thought you'd like it," Stephanie said quietly.

Daisy moved on to the other gifts, opening two more books from Marigold, a lovely set of sketching pencils from Miss Baxter and Mr. Molesley, some riding boots that Cora and Robert had sent over from England, and a few outfits and toys from Beryl and Bill, Anna and John, Mary, and Edith and Bertie, along with a few other gifts.

"What's that?" she whispered to Tommy, indicating the last gift - an enormous box that was still on the floor.

"This," he said, dragging it over so that it rested in front of Daisy's legs, "is from us. Elsie picked it out especially for you."

Daisy looked up at Elsie, who only smiled in return.

"Go on," she encouraged her softly. "Open it."

Daisy peeled back the bow and paper and revealed a brown cardboard box, with no indication of what was inside. John came over and helped her open the box top with his pocketknife, and she pried open the top and lifted out the paper … and promptly emitted a very high-pitched, very _loud_ squeal of delight.

"I'll help you," Tommy said with a smile, reaching in and pulling the gift out, then placing it in Daisy's lap.

"It's _beautiful!"_ Daisy exclaimed.

On her lap sat a custom-made, deep brown saddle. The tooling design showed a vine which was blossoming into very delicate - of course - daisies. As Daisy ran her fingers over it, she came upon the medallion.

"What's this called?" she asked Charles.

"It's a medallion," he replied. "To personalize it for you."

"No, I mean what's _this?"_ she emphasized, pointing to the design on it.

Charles leaned over and examined it more closely, and then he looked over at Elsie in surprise. He hadn't realized she'd purchased a medallion at all, but was wholly unprepared for what was on it.

"It's a thistle," he said to Daisy, but his eyes were still on Elsie.

"It is," Elsie confirmed, smiling lovingly at him before approaching Daisy.

"What's a thistle?" Daisy asked.

"It's a symbol of Scotland," Elsie said. "It stands for strength, among other things, and it's protective of what's around it."

"And you're from Scotland," Daisy nodded, a smile on her face. "So ... it's like a little bit of you with me. Protecting me."

Charles swallowed a lump in his throat as Elsie whispered, "Yes, love … it's exactly like that."

* * *

 ** _TBC … please leave a little review if you feel so inclined. Shout-out to chelsie-carson for the idea of the saddle for Daisy, which I "embellished" a bit. :) x_**


	46. Struggles and Celebrations

**A/N: So, the plan was to stop this fic at Chapter 50, but I think I may go a few beyond that. I hope no one minds :) but I just feel that I won't quite be done with them yet and don't want to stop only to add an epilogue later on - would much rather keep it one fic.**

 **A world of thanks to brenna-louise, who faithfully betas and answers my endless questions about this never-ending story. Also, a shout-out to Hogwarts Duo and dillydallyy, who both contributed in their own way. I am so blessed to have the support of my friends as I move forward with this tale.  
**

 **The quotes used here are from the song which will appear in the wedding chapter (which, for enquiring minds, is 49).**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **In the struggle you hold sacred,**_

 _ **When the arrows pierce you through,**_

 _ **In the love that flows between us,**_

 _ **May your courage be renewed ...**_

* * *

 _ **Wednesday, May 27, 2015**_

The sounds of the horses whinnying in the distance carried through the open windows of the house. It was mid-afternoon, and the sky was bright with sunshine. As she was changing her clothes, Elsie looked outside and saw the laundry flapping on the line; part of her wondered if it was dry enough by now to bring in, but she knew Charles would get it when he came back from picking the kids up from drama practice at school.

Elsie reflected back to last week when each child had chosen, independently, to participate in this year's school play. She smiled as she remembered having laughed out loud when both kids had come home from school last Wednesday and had actually argued at the dinner table about who would get to talk first about their day. Each was so eager to reveal a "surprise," completely ignorant of the fact that they had the same surprise to share. Daisy, who would never speak in as public a space as a stage, explained that she'd be helping behind-the-scenes with moving props about and how she _also_ had been asked to design the cover of the program; Tommy was eager to share that he'd tried out for - and had been awarded - the lead role. It was a monumental experience for both of them, and Elsie and Charles couldn't have been prouder.

But as Elsie buttoned her jeans and put her hair up in a ponytail, she knew her slow movements belied an inner fear of what the afternoon would likely bring: a failure, once again, to complete the task to which she had set herself. Heading out of the bedroom and downstairs, Elsie grabbed her boots when she saw them on the steps; she then sat on the bench by the basement door and pulled them on.

Her back hadn't hurt for a full week now, yet she wore the new brace during all of her waking hours, even at home, knowing that if she wanted to be in tip-top shape for her wedding she'd better listen _very_ well to Richard Clarkson's suggestions from last week:

" _No more pushing it too far, Elsie. That goes for, um,_ _ **all**_ _activities in which you may be participating. But you can resume some regular household chores, as long as you're not bending and lifting more than ten pounds at once."_

" _I understand."_

" _Keep pressure off of your tailbone. Try to limit sitting to one half-hour at a time, and then walk around for a bit. Lie down whenever possible. You can start driving in three or four weeks, but only for very short distances and only if you're wearing the brace."_

She'd taken his advice to heart, and so had Charles. _Bless Charles,_ she thought, _he's been ever so supportive._ Not only was he treating Elsie's body with the utmost care during their "activities," but he was also reminding her to stand and move about. But what truly amazed her was how he was letting her _do_ things - small things, like making dinner and putting away the laundry. And she had a goal, after all: to be almost fully recovered in time for their honeymoon. She still had no idea _where_ they were going, apart from the fact that he'd said it was somewhere warm.

 _In August,_ she thought. _So_ _ **that**_ _doesn't narrow it down at all._

Elsie stood and took a deep breath. She opened the door and walked across the driveway, not sure if she was comforted or intimidated by the fact that John Bates would be in the barn waiting for her. Still, she preferred John for this particular task; Anna wouldn't push her at all, Charles was too well attuned to her emotions, and the children were out of the question.

Elsie took a turn toward the chicken coop first, as if she could delay the inevitable. She reached out to pet a couple of the friendlier girls.

"Good afternoon, loves," she said cheerfully. "Are Daisy and Tommy taking good care of you?"

She reached under a couple of the hens and found some eggs, but left them for Daisy to collect when she got home.

"Very nice work, ladies," she praised them. "I'll see you later on tonight when it's time to eat."

Exiting the henhouse, she took a deep breath, her eyes taking in the sight of the property from her vantage point: henhouse, pond, the side of the porch, and then - past the house - the garden patch that Tommy had recently tilled, ready for planting in another week, the driveway, and the paddock and barn. She started slowly up the driveway, approaching the fence but stopping just short of it. She turned to peer into the barn, and saw John filling buckets of feed, his back to her as he worked.

"Electricity's off," he said.

"Okay," she replied, not even flinching; she knew he'd heard her moving about outside. John was very like Elsie in that way - always aware of his surroundings, and attentive even when he appeared not to be.

Elsie moved forward another step and grabbed the top of the fence with her hands, squeezing tightly as she focused on breathing normally. She looked across to the other side of the paddock, mentally noting each item she saw before her and trying to remember the summer she'd put it all together …

… _John helped me_ _ **then,**_ _funny that he'd be the one to help me_ _ **now**_ _… I remember when we put the fence posts in - God, it was hotter than hell that day! Twenty-two posts in this section, plus the criss-cross of the design … We ran the electrical ourselves … Sixty-five feet from where I'm standing to that center post over there … Good, there's a fresh bale of hay, the feed trough looks clean … The water could stand to be filled … Oh, and that spigot will have to be replaced, if I can just get in there to look at it … Deep breaths, Els-_

"Elsie?" John's voice interrupted her stream-of-consciousness thinking, and she jumped a bit at the feel of his hand on her arm.

"Sorry," he added. "You don't look that great. Should we wait another day, do you think?"

But she shook her head vehemently. "No," she insisted. "I have to try _every_ day - every day that you're here alone, anyhow. I just …" Her voice trailed off, and he only nodded as he reached for the latch.

"Everyone is locked up tight and secure," he explained calmly. "They've got snacks, and they can't get out. It's just the two of us, alright?"

Elsie gulped and nodded slowly. "Alright," she whispered, her heart racing as John reached for her hand and let go of the latch, the gate swinging open on its spring.

She squeezed his hand tightly as they made their way into the paddock. _Small steps,_ Elsie reminded herself, knowing that John could likely feel the increase in her pulse as she gripped his hand.

"Just go slowly," he encouraged her, and she bit down on her lip and nodded again as she took another two steps in.

"We're further in than we've been before," he said softly, "and you're doing wonderfully. Just a few more feet-"

But his voice was cut off by Star's whinny from inside of his stall, which was followed immediately by a brief cry from Elsie as she froze where she stood.

"I can't," she gasped, fighting for air and clenching her eyes shut tightly.

John turned and wrapped her up in a tight hug. "You _can,_ Elsie. You're strong, and you _can_ do this."

"I have to … get out … but I can't … can't move," she managed, and he rubbed his hand on her back. Her heart was racing, and she knew she'd start crying uncontrollably if she stood there much longer.

"It's alright. Star can't get out, and I've got you. Come on, now - ten steps to the gate, okay? Count them with me," he coached.

She did as he asked, and as they neared the gate itself, Elsie felt a little bit of the fear seep from her body.

"How foolish," she spat, feeling the prick of tears sting her eyes even though she knew she was now safe. "The horse farmer who can't even go into her own paddock."

"It's _not_ foolish," John reasoned calmly. "I'd wager that it's rather common after what you've experienced."

"But I'm rendered useless!" she cried, a tear spilling over her eyelid. She wiped angrily at it and turned away from the fence, but she felt John's gentle-yet-firm grip on her arm preventing her from running away.

"Elsie Hughes, you listen to me," John said calmly. "This is perfectly normal, and we made it further today than ever. How did you feel _before_ Star decided to be the center of attention?"

She thought back. "Okay, I think. Not as bad as last week, but not … not _normal,_ I suppose. Not like I should feel."

"But better than before, which means you've made _some_ progress," he said steadily.

"It's been _weeks_ that we've been trying, John! I haven't made enough, I can tell you that."

He sighed deeply, and she turned her head to face him.

"Spill it, John. I can practically _hear_ the gears in your brain shifting and clicking. What are you thinking?"

He pursed his lips and looked at her, then tilted his head slightly in agreement.

"Okay, I will. I think you need help with this, Els, beyond what I can do for you. I think you should talk to Phyllis, or Dr. Clarkson, and get a referral to a therapist. This isn't abnormal, but it's got to be some kind of post-traumatic stress. You're a nurse, Elsie … You _know_ that I'm right."

She felt her tears flow freely now, but she didn't really care. John had been a friend for a very long time, from the first month Elsie had arrived in Misty Cove and had met him and Fiona at church. He'd been standing to the back of the fellowship hall during coffee hour and had been one of the only people to say hello to her. Elsie had returned the greeting and had said something about him being the quiet stranger in the crowd, and they'd liked one another instantly, joking about how they were the Irishman and the Scot in a crowd of 'down-easters'.* Since that day at the church they'd remained good friends, albeit ones who hadn't seen each other often (until, Elsie remembered, Anna had come into the picture). Elsie had also come to know Fiona well, and was grateful for both of those friendships as they'd helped her ease her way into the community of Misty Cove. But John and Elsie had both been through their own difficult pasts - he with his ex-wife and she with her father and Joe - and it was this shared experience that had solidified their relationship. She'd not shared as many details with John as she had with Charles, but she'd shared enough over the years that he knew she'd been through a lot. He'd never suggested _before_ that she needed some type of therapy, and so she took his words to heart now.

"I _do_ know that you're right, I just thought I could do it myself."

"And what would Phyllis Baxter say about that?" he gently teased.

Elsie sniffed and wiped her face as a dry chuckle broke through her sobs. "She'd tell me I'm being daft, and that I know better."

"Precisely."

Just then, Charles's Volvo appeared in the driveway, and John squeezed Elsie's hand one last time.

"Go inside and wash up, and I'll detain them out here," John said. "But you must talk to him," he added, tossing a nod in Charles's direction. "It's not fair otherwise."

"I know," she admitted. "And I will."

* * *

Charles could tell as they were eating supper that night that something was on Elsie's mind. She'd been distracted by several things lately, but he'd just assumed it had to do with everything that had happened with the fire, followed by Tommy moving in, followed almost immediately by planning Daisy's party. He'd wanted to surprise her with the honeymoon and she'd readily agreed, which had seemed lovely to him at first but then seemed odd the more he thought about it; it wasn't like Elsie to willingly relinquish control over _anything._ Still, she'd said nothing, and he hadn't wanted to press her about it.

He was, however, growing more suspicious that something was wrong, something they'd not already discussed. She'd been somewhat moody when dealing with anything related to the farm, and while she'd been wonderful with both him and the children, he sensed that all was not quite rosy in Elsie's world.

He smiled at her and stretched his arm out as she climbed into bed, noting that her own smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She did tuck herself in close to him, though, and as he turned on his side and placed a kiss to her temple, she tucked her head under his and nuzzled his chest.

"Elsie?" he asked quietly. "Won't you tell me what's wrong?"

He felt rather than saw her smile. "You know me too well already, I see."

"Enough to know something beyond the usual stuff is wrong. Can I help?"

"No," she said sadly. "But I think I _need_ help." She bit down on her lip, and felt a sob well up in her chest.

Charles just wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. She'd been doing quite a lot of that lately and he had a feeling it was rather unusual for her, but - then again - he perhaps wasn't the best judge of that, reminding himself that they had only known each other about nine months total.

 _It feels like a lifetime, though …_

"I can't do it," she finally whispered.

He moved back a bit and wiped her face with his fingertips. "I don't believe that," he said.

"Charlie, you don't even know what I'm referring to," she said with half a laugh.

He raised his eyebrows and looked her in the eyes. "I don't have to," he said insistently. "Because I don't think there's much in this world that _you_ can't accomplish, Elsie. Tell me what has you so upset, and we'll see what we can do about it, alright?"

She nodded and gulped, controlling the tears after a few moments and taking several deep, cleansing breaths.

"I can't go into the paddock," she whispered. "Or near the horses. And it's _stupid,_ but I'm so afraid. John's been helping me - well, trying to, anyhow - but I can't."

"John?"

"Yes. I asked him to one day, when you were off doing some errand or other and Anna wasn't here. I knew he would be firm with me, but supportive. He's a good friend, but he's not one to let his emotions show on his sleeve. Even if he were disappointed or bothered, he'd not let it show - not to me, anyhow." She looked up at him. "Please don't be upset that I didn't ask you, I just …"

"No, I understand," he assured her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm. "I think we've established that I can't hide my feelings from you - whatever they may be. I'd likely have made it worse."

He said it without a trace of self-pity, and she smiled.

"We've established that you're a horrible liar," she agreed, "and Anna couldn't fib if her life depended on it. But it doesn't matter, because nothing John and I have done has helped."

She took a deep breath. "He suggested that I see someone, that it's likely post-traumatic stress. Which I knew, of course, but chose to ignore."

He smirked, burying his face in her hair as he cuddled her closer. "The nurse doesn't _always_ know how to best care for herself - something _else_ we've established these past few months. Did you call anyone?"

"I will tomorrow. Wanted to tell you first," she said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't do so before."

"Don't be. Tomorrow, then."

He pulled her closer and just held her for several minutes, eventually moving to gently press his lips to hers; he broke away before he was tempted to deepen the kiss.

"Let's get some sleep, love," he whispered, and she hummed her agreement.

* * *

Elsie had expected the next morning to bring a fresh perspective, perhaps more comfort with the entire idea of going to see a therapist, but she woke feeling uneasy and rather ill at the prospect. She knew Charles noticed, but he thankfully said nothing in front of the children. He kissed her and took the kids to school, then returned promptly to find her just getting off the phone.

"That was Phyllis," she explained, holding up a piece of paper. "She's given me a few people to call."

"Good. Would you like some privacy in which to do that?"

"I wasn't going to do it _now,_ Charles," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why not? You may as well; then we'll have the rest of the morning free and it won't be weighing on your mind," he reasoned.

"Or yours," she grumbled, and he surprised her.

"Precisely. Look, Els, I don't want you to think I'm going to hover over you and nag about this, but it's important to me."

He approached her and took her hands in his, kissing her knuckles before clasping their hands on his chest.

"I am marrying you in just over two months. This … _thing_ that you're going through isn't something I can help you with. I don't want it living in the back of your mind, dormant, for the next two months, only to rear its ugly head when you least expect it. I love you, and you know I'll support you in whatever you do."

"Will you?" she challenged.

"I will," he insisted calmly. "But when I whisk you away for a honeymoon filled with unbridled passion amidst gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, I'd like to know that your entire self will be at ease."

She pulled a hand free and ran her fingertips over his cheek, brushing his lips and giggling when he kissed the pads of her fingers.

"You're not planning to coax me into riding a horse, are you?"

He knew she was teasing, but he was still wary of the flicker of fear behind the joviality in her eyes.

"No, that's not in the plans, I can assure you," he said.

"And what _is_ in the plans?"

"Ha! Nice try. I'm not giving you any more hints than you've already gotten: warmth, glorious sunrises and sunsets, privacy, and me."

"Well," she murmured, stretching up on her tiptoes to nuzzle his neck, "I suppose that's all I'll really need."

He allowed the attentions for a moment, then gently pushed her away, tilting his head to indicate the paper on which she'd written the numbers.

"Alright, alright," she sighed, hands up in defeat. "I know when I'm beaten. I'll call now, set something up as soon as possible, okay?"

"Thank you," he said. "I'll leave you to it."

She shook her head once again and picked up the phone, tapping in the third number Phyllis had given her; it was the closest to home, and it was the doctor that Phyllis seemed to think would have the earliest opening.

As Charles was swapping his shoes for barn boots, he overheard the beginning of her call.

"Good morning. My name is Elsie Hughes. I'd like to set up an appointment …"

He could have wept with relief.

* * *

 _ **Friday, May 29, 2015**_

The school bell rang and the kids started pouring into the halls, noisy as ever because it was a Friday. Daisy was taking her time packing her things, and Tommy eventually found her outside of Miss Stephanie's room, zipping up her backpack.

"Your father texted - we've got to delay leaving for about half an hour, he said."

Daisy looked up at him. "How? It's a Friday!"

Tommy peeked into the classroom and saw Miss Stephanie and Mr. Molesley chatting by her desk. "I have an idea. Come on."

He led Daisy into the classroom, and they poked around at the bookshelf by the door until Miss Stephanie came over.

"Give me one good reason why you two didn't just fly out of here at the bell? It's a Friday, for goodness sake!"

"We need your help," Tommy said bluntly. "Daisy's father is going to be late to pick us all up, and Elsie's going to be wondering why we're not down in her office yet. The thing is, she can't know _why_ he's running late, so we need her to think that maybe Daisy's staying for some extra help or something? Would you be able to … well, lie for us? It's for a good cause."

"Well, then. May _I_ know why?"

"He's picking up her new truck," Daisy said gleefully. "Her old one is _awful,_ " she added in a whisper, "and the new one is _red."_

"I see!" Stephanie laughed. "Those aren't exactly opposites, but I know what you mean. And so it's to be a surprise when you all get home?"

"Yeah. But he won't be here for another half hour," Tommy clarified.

"Well, then," Stephanie said, picking up the phone by the door, "let's just call the nurse's office, shall we?"

She winked at Daisy, who giggled.

* * *

Charles whipped his phone out when it buzzed in his pocket.

 _Can you wait a bit before heading over? Daisy getting help w/something. X_

He quickly typed a reply:

 _Sure thing. How long?_

Elsie looked at her phone and sent back her answer:

 _Half hour? See you then - love you._

"All set, then?" Andy asked, and Charles nodded as he sent one more text:

 _Will do. Love you, too._

"All set," Charles said, pocketing the phone again and turning back to Andy.

Andy took the keys to Elsie's old truck and grabbed two sets of keys to the new one off the board by his desk.

"Great! Let's go, then! We should just have time to bring this to your house and then you can drop me off on your way to the school. She's got no idea, does she?"

"None at all," Charles said, shaking his head. "And with any luck, she'll be happier than she is irritated that I disposed of her old one without her consent."

* * *

"What. Is. That?" Elsie stammered. She saw the fire-engine red truck parked in front of the barn, a huge blue bow sitting on top of it, and couldn't help how the loudness in her voice climbed with every word. _"Charles?_ _ **Where**_ _is_ _ **my**_ _truck?"_

"It's at Branson's," he replied, suddenly _very_ afraid that he'd made some horrid mistake. "Um … Happy Birthday?"

"Isn't it beautiful?" Daisy chimed in, sensing that her Papa needed a bit of help. She reached out and touched the gleaming hood, and Elsie nodded once.

"That it is," she allowed, biting down on her thumbnail as she stared at it.

Tommy could see a storm brewing from a mile off, and he knew that he and Daisy were about to get caught in a huge one if they didn't find somewhere else to be … and fast.

"C'mon, Daisy," he said, taking her by the elbow and practically pulling her toward the house. "Let's get rid of our bags and grab a snack."

"Okay," Daisy agreed, and they ran up the path and into the door, which Tommy shut firmly behind them.

Elsie stood fuming, and she wasn't even sure _why._ The truck parked before her was _gorgeous!_ It was shiny and new, she was fairly certain it wasn't falling apart underneath, and it was the perfect size. It had running boards, which would enable her to climb in easily, and an extended cab with a full back seat so that the four of them would all fit comfortably.

And it was, apparently, _hers._

"I'm sorry if this was a bad decision," Charles attempted, running his hand through his hair and trying to fix whatever had gone wrong. "I just … well, you've needed a new one for longer than I've known you, and -"

"I would have been capable of purchasing one myself, you know," she said in a low voice. "I didn't need you to do it for me. I _can_ support myself, believe it or not."

His eyes flew wide open. "Wait … what? I know you can! Of course I know that! I just _wanted_ to get it for you; I thought it'd be a nice surprise. Bad plan, evidently."

He turned and walked back to his own car, pulling the paperwork for the new truck from it and closing his door again. He went back to Elsie's side and handed her the folder.

"Here," he said, shoving it into her hands. "It's all the information. Look it over and decide." He took a breath to add something else, but held it back.

"What? What were you going to say?" Elsie asked.

He shook his head in defeat. "Only that I never meant to upset you, but I also don't think it's even _fair_ that you _are_ upset. It's a _gift,_ Elsie, and one you needed. Can't you just enjoy it?"

And, with that, he turned and walked toward and into the house, leaving her holding the folder in one hand and the keys to her shiny new vehicle in the other.

"Nice going, Elsie," she whispered to herself. "You've made quite a mess of this, haven't you?"

She went over to the truck and pressed the button to unlock it. As she pulled open the door, the first thing she noticed was the amazing smell.

 _The seats are LEATHER?_

She reached her hand out and brushed her fingers over the driver's seat, astonished at how soft and shiny it was. She gave in to her curiosity and climbed inside, sitting behind the wheel and moving the seat forward a bit.

 _It's insanely comfortable,_ she admitted to herself. Just then, her eyes spied an envelope that was tucked into the center console, sticking up from where her coffee cup would go. She put the folder down on the seat beside her and picked up the envelope, seeing her name scrawled across the front in Charles's clean handwriting and some flowers decorating the edge that she was positive had been drawn on by Daisy.

Biting her lip, Elsie tore open the envelope and extracted the card. It had a beautiful picture of a cake on the front, and when she opened it she saw that the inside simply read _Happy Birthday!_ But her family had written personal messages inside as well, and she started with Tommy's:

 _Hope you like it! Pretty hard keeping a secret from you. Happy early Birthday! Tommy_

She smiled and shook her head. Tommy was still finding his way in their little family, and the fact that he'd been fully in on this surprise made her extremely happy. She glanced below his message to find Daisy's:

 _Hi Elsie! I really hope you like the new truck. The old one was pretty bad! Love, xoxox, Daisy_

That made Elsie laugh aloud - the old truck _was_ pretty bad, she knew. And she really _had_ planned to replace it, but with the accident and her inability to drive it just never seemed like a good time. Charles had been able to fit everything they needed to transport in his own vehicle, but Elsie knew when it came time to fetch bales of hay (which John had graciously been doing for the time being), she'd need a working truck again.

She glanced over to the other side of the card, where Charles had written a bit more than the kids. She got choked up at his words and shook her head at how supremely foolish she'd been to be upset about his amazingly thoughtful gift.

 _For my dearest Elsie: a gift not as lovely as you, but lovely nonetheless. Violet always says the perfect gift should be one of three things: beautiful, useful, or personal. I'd say this might be all three: beautiful without a doubt, certainly useful for both farm chores and perhaps even a bit of travel, and personal - to me, at least. I credit the old truck for forcing us together on a rainy day last year, and I hope this new one is the first of_ _many_ _new things we'll be celebrating in the months and years ahead._

 _All my love,_

 _Your Charlie x_

"Daft man," she whispered, wiping at her eyes. She placed the card atop the file and put the key in the ignition, turning it and marveling at the quiet purr of the engine - and at the ease with which the truck had started. She gripped the wheel and adjusted the mirrors, having already accepted the fact that the truck was, indeed, going to remain hers for the keeping.

"Well, now. You need a name, don't you? How about ... Red?" She laughed, knowing Charles would roll his eyes at the simplicity of the name. But, really … the truck was _so red_ that she just couldn't _not_ call it that.

 _Besides,_ she thought fondly as she looked across at the barn, _we already have a 'Scarlett.'_

She turned the engine off again and climbed out of the truck, taking the folder and card with her. She locked the doors and headed toward the house, turning back around halfway there and taking her phone out to snap a picture of the truck sitting in front of the barn, the huge bow still sitting atop the roof.

Making her way into the house, Elsie found the main living area to be empty. One peek into their rooms told her that Tommy and Daisy were working on homework. She headed down to the bedroom, where she found Charles sitting on the bed and staring at something he held in his hands.

"What's that?" Elsie asked quietly, and he turned and held it out to her. It was a photograph of her old truck.

"I took it yesterday," he said quietly. "Was going to tuck it in the card, but I forgot."

She took it from him, brushing her fingers on his thumb as she did so. "Thank you. I'll miss it, but I really do love Red."

" _Red?_ You're not serious," he chuckled.

"I am," she insisted. "Really, what else would you name that truck?" She bit her lip and sat beside him, reaching over to take his hand.

He laughed and leaned over sideways, resting his head on hers.

"I'm sorry, you know," he said. "Not for buying it, but for making you feel like I was taking over around here."

"I don't feel like _that,_ Charlie. I just … well, I suppose I'm not used to this sort of thing. You're such a kind and generous man. You see a need and you want to take care of it. I think you're so used to taking care of things in your life that, sometimes, you forget that I'm the same way."

"I do forget," he said. "And I want to take care of you, and the children. But I promise you this: No more major life decisions on my own, okay?"

He moved a bit and leaned over, kissing her softly on the mouth. She parted her lips after a moment and grazed her tongue over the tip of his. Charles placed his hands on the sides of her head, leaning her back and deepening the kiss even further before remembering the door to the bedroom was open and the children were, in fact, home and awake.

As he broke away from her, he was pleased to notice that there was a distinct flush on her face and neck, along with her slight shortness of breath.

"Okay," she answered. "And, Charlie?"

"Mm?"

She got up and held her hand out to him, which he took as he stood before her.

"Maybe tonight, _I_ can take care of _you."_ She quirked an eyebrow at him and turned swiftly, heading into the kitchen before he could formulate a reply.

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, June 9, 2015**_

Elsie pulled into the driveway, parking her truck by the barn since they'd be taking Charlie's car to dinner this evening. She and the kids got out and headed toward the house, where Charles met them on the front steps.

"There's the birthday girl," he said lovingly, taking a bouquet of roses from behind his back.

"Oh, Charlie! They're lovely!" she exclaimed, kissing him hard and then laughing at the groans she heard from the children.

"Come on, it's my birthday," she teased them. "And he deserves a thank you kiss, don't you think?"

"Not while we're here," Tommy quipped, and Daisy snorted a laugh.

"Really," she added, her nose wrinkled up, "anyone could drive up and see!"

"Well, we can't have that," Charles said to her as he wrapped his arm around Elsie's waist and led them into the house.

"How was the drive?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, it was _lovely._ No pain, and I took it slowly. It's a blessing living so close to school, I can say that."

"Good. I'm glad you waited, too. Somehow, it was fitting that your first time back behind the wheel would be on your actual birthday, in your birthday _gift."_

"I agree. And I do love it so much," she gushed. "I still feel like a fool for giving you such a hard time about it."

"That's alright," he said as he fetched a vase from the upper-most cabinet. "You made it up to me."

"Ha! That I did," she replied, taking the vase from his hands and filling it with water.

As neither of the children had homework, Elsie sent them to the barn to tend to the animals before dinner.

"I'm going to take a shower and change," she said to Charles. "Dressy tonight, or …? I have no idea where we're going."

"Nothing too fancy," he said. "We aren't going far, but I'd say … no jeans?"

"Fair enough," she replied, heading down the hall.

Elsie changed her mind about the shower and took a long bath instead. She lit the candles around the tub and added a generous helping of her favorite bath soap. She sank into the hot, sudsy water, allowing long sigh of relief to escape her lips.

Charles checked on her ten minutes later. "Need any help?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure," she replied, surprising him. "Do my hair?"

He sat behind the tub and took the faucet sprayer in hand, wetting her hair and then lathering shampoo into it, massaging her scalp and neck before rinsing it clean. As he worked, they chatted a bit about the day - her stressful lunchtime with several kids stricken, once again, with a stomach bug; his less stressful (but still busy) morning and afternoon, which involved laundry and then cleaning out the barn with Anna. Charles moved on to the conditioner, stealing kisses now and then between sentences. When he'd finished, he dried off his hands and arms and wrapped her hair in a towel; she gave him one last kiss in thanks before he left.

An hour later, everyone piled into the Volvo. Elsie was surprised when they pulled up to the Misty Cove Seaside.

"We're having dinner _here?_ Well, I'd not have guessed that! I should have known, though, when you said it was close by."

"Award-winning restaurant, which we loved the last time we tried it," Charles said, extending his hand to help her out of the car. Elsie laced her fingers through his and they headed toward the door, followed by the children.

"There might be _one_ more surprise," Charles said sheepishly. "I'm afraid you'll have to close your eyes when we're brought to the table."

Elsie stopped suddenly, and turned to look at him in horror. "Charles Carson," she whispered. "There had better not be a room full of people in there all waiting to surprise me."

"There's not," Tommy said.

"Oh, I see," Elsie nodded, feigning exasperation. She turned to Daisy. "I suppose you know what awaits us in there, too?"

Daisy nodded quickly, a huge, toothy smile on her face.

"Is it Auntie Becky?" Elsie whispered, but Daisy shook her head.

"No, it's really not," she said sadly. "I wish she could have come, though."

"I did ask," Charles added, "but she had some group thing tonight she couldn't miss."

"Oh, right - it's Tuesday," Elsie nodded. "Alright then - let's go! Do you trust me, or should I rip that tie off of your neck so you can tie it around my eyes?"

Charles cleared his throat. "I trust you," he managed, trying to erase the images that just appeared in his mind. "Close them, then, and I'll lead you in."

She did as asked, and Charles squeezed her hand.

"Carson party," he told the host at the front desk.

"I figured," the young man chuckled. "Right this way - your table is in the corner."

As they crossed the parquet floor, where Elsie remembered dancing with Charles at Edith's wedding, the sound of chairs scraping the floor made its way to Elsie's ears.

"Charles?" she enquired softly, and she felt a warm hand reach out and take her free one, squeezing it gently.

"Not exactly," Isobel murmured, and Elsie's eyes flew open.

"Isobel! But when … _How? …_ Oh, my goodness!" She wrapped her friend in a tight hug. "When did you get here?"

"Last night," Isobel said, kissing Elsie's cheek. "Happy Birthday, by the way. I was hoping to surprise you."

"You did! And it's a _wonderful_ surprise." She looked to where Richard stood by Isobel's side, and leaned in for a hug from him as well. "You must have known about this when I saw you last!"

"I did," he confirmed with a smile. "But there was no way I was going to spoil it for you."

Charles led Elsie and the children to the table as the adults caught up on travel plans: Richard confirmed that he'd signed the papers just that morning finalizing the sale of his business, and Isobel would be staying two weeks in order to help him pack up his flat and get it ready to be rented.

"I decided not to sell the flat itself," Richard explained. "It made more sense to have somewhere to come back to when we want to visit."

"So you'll be moving in two weeks?" Elsie asked incredulously, and Richard nodded.

"But keeping the flat means we can visit more often than originally planned, perhaps," Isobel said, smiling at Charles. "Now, fill us in on what's new with you."

Tommy and Daisy spoke a bit about school - particularly the upcoming play - and the plans they had for how to spend the summer. Isobel made sure she got Elsie's update on how she was feeling, and she talked to both Elsie and Charles about how wedding plans were coming along while Richard kept the children entertained with a few stories about some of the more interesting patients he'd had over the years. He was sure not to divulge anyone's identity, but Daisy and Tommy were both reduced to fits of quiet laughter several times as Richard regaled them with his tales.

When it was time for dessert, the waitress brought out a small chocolate cake, on which sat two candles: a '4' and a '5.'

"Great - let them _all_ know," she teased, and Charles leaned in and kissed her temple.

They divided the cake equally amongst themselves, and then Daisy reached under the table and pulled out a small box that Elsie hadn't even noticed before.

"Presents," Daisy said quietly.

"I gathered that," Elsie said, "but you've all already given me yours."

"Nah, that was from Charles," Tommy said, handing over his package. Elsie unwrapped it and gasped.

" _Doctor Sleep,"_ she said, nodding. "Thank you, Tommy! I presume you'd like to read this when I've finished with it?"

He nodded quickly, and Isobel made a face.

"I cannot stand those types of things," she said, "but you two enjoy."

"Oh, we will," Elsie assured her. _"The Shining_ is my favorite of King's novels, and this is the sequel."

She opened a pair of earrings that Daisy had picked out, and then a gift certificate from Isobel and Richard for a restaurant up in Bangor.

"It's a lovely drive," Richard said, "and that's my favorite restaurant of all. Make a day of it; we'll watch the kids, if you do it in the next two weeks."

"Deal!" Elsie laughed.

She looked around the table, smiling fondly at her fiancé, the children - more hers every day, she thought - and their dear friends. "This has, without a doubt, been the most surprise-filled birthday I've had in ages."

"That was the plan," Isobel said, patting Elsie's arm.

"I love you all, you know," Elsie said softly. "Thank you for this."

Charles put his arm around her and pulled her close, placing a kiss to her forehead.

"We love you, too, Els," he said, and the kids jumped up from their chairs and joined him, wrapping Elsie in a huge - if slightly awkward - group hug.

"Nice family you've got there," Richard drawled, and Elsie laughed.

"It is," she said, winking at the kids. "And you know what? I think I'll keep them."

* * *

 _*down-easter: a term that refers to people living on coastal New England or, more specifically, coastal Maine._

 _ **A little review would be wonderful - you've all been so generous with them, and I thank you! Shout-out to the guest reviewers, whose words mean just as much as the ones to which I can reply. xx  
**_


	47. There's Enough Love

**A/N: Um … I think of this as the "love it or leave it" chapter of this story - as in, after finishing, you'll likely reaffirm that you love this story or … not.**

 **Please do leave me a review at the end if you are able, and I promise that I'll reply if I can.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **There's enough love in this world**_

 _ **to wash away all the pain,**_

 _ **sadness, sorrow, rain …**_

 _ **Thursday, July 9, 2015**_

 _ **Three weeks and two days until the wedding**_

Elsie, Beryl, Anna, and Daisy all piled into Charles's Volvo. It was just shy of nine in the morning, and everyone was still a bit groggy - particularly Daisy, who'd been up late the night before, reading the book she was trying valiantly to finish.

"Have a wonderful time," Charles said, kissing Elsie through the open passenger-side window. He leaned in front of her and added to Beryl, who was seated in the driver's seat, "And take good care of my car, please."

"What are you so afraid of?" Beryl asked indignantly. "I _do_ know how to drive, thank you very much."

"You drive like a mad woman," Elsie laughed. "So any funny business and Anna's jumping into that seat. One of my kids is in that back seat, Beryl."

She turned and shot Daisy a smile and a wink; Daisy quickly turned back to her book, but the brilliant smile on her face couldn't be missed by anyone, and Anna gave the girl a little nudge and a wink of her own.

"Yeah, yeah," Beryl grumbled playfully as she slid the gear shift into _Drive_ and headed out to the road.

As most of them had skipped breakfast, Beryl went through the drive-thru of the coffee shop to stock them all up on coffee, tea, and pastries. They spent most of the first part of their trip in silence, but once she finished her coffee, Elsie found herself voicing one of the things on her mind.

"A forty-five-year-old bride," she mused, tapping her finger on her knee as she gazed out the window and over the ocean. They were following the seaside to Becky's home, after which they'd head down to a dress shop in Portsmouth. "Becky has already teased me - said I waited long enough."

"Aw, I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Anna chimed in.

"That's because _your_ husband is almost the same age!" Beryl laughed.

"True," Anna acknowledged with a smile, "but there's something to be said for waiting for the right person, isn't there?"

"I wholeheartedly agree, Anna," Elsie said, a fond smile on her face as they pulled up to Becky's home. "It certainly paid off for us."

Elsie got out and went inside to fetch Becky, who was waiting by the front door for her.

"Ellie! I'm ready to go! We're buying my dress today, right?"

Elsie wrapped her sister in a hug and smiled. "Hopefully we are, love. And _my_ dress, too, if you don't mind!"

"And Daisy's too, right? Is she in the car?"

"She certainly is, and she cannot wait to see you. You'll be sharing the backseat with her and Anna, so you'll have plenty of time to get caught up."

Elsie signed the book that Mags handed her, promising they'd have Becky back before bedtime.

"We'll be having dinner on the way home," Elsie clarified, and Mags nodded.

"Oh, believe me, I know," she said, chuckling. "All I've heard about for two days now is that restaurant."

"Well, it seemed fitting," Elsie said softly. "Charles and I had our first date there, and it's right up Becky and Daisy's alley. But we'll be back by eight, I promise."

"Have a fabulous time," Mags said, coming around to give Elsie a hug. "And congratulations, Elsie. Your Charles seems like quite the catch."

"That he is," Elsie agreed, beaming. "I'm so very lucky to have found him."

"Oh, I'd say _he's_ pretty lucky, too," Mags said with a wink. "Now off you go - and God help you if there's no Boston cream donut in that car for her."

Becky laughed, but then stopped abruptly and turned to look at Elsie.

"There _is_ one, isn't there, Ellie?"

"Yes," Elsie laughed, taking Becky's hand. "In fact … there may be _two."_

Becky squealed with delight as they headed out, Mags looking after them with a smile and giving a small wave when Becky turned around to bid her goodbye.

* * *

"Here we are!"

Beryl pulled into the parking lot and everyone sighed with relief, anxious to have gotten off the highway. It had been rather congested with traffic - vacationers for the summer, no doubt - but that hadn't caused Beryl to slow down at all.

"Thank God," Anna muttered. "Here in one piece."

"I heard that, thank you very much," Beryl said sharply, causing Daisy to giggle.

"Come on," Elsie said. "Anna can drive home, perhaps."

"Sounds good to me," Beryl grumbled, but her tone immediately improved when she spotted the display window of the bridal shop.

"Ohh," she breathed, "Daisy - _look."_ She pointed to the window, and Daisy gasped: there, in the largest of the three display areas, was a collection of dresses specifically made for flower girls and junior bridesmaids.

Elsie noted the dresses and immediately, albeit _silently,_ picked out her favorite two of the five and hoped that Daisy would agree, and they walked in for their appointment.

"Good morning!" The loud voice virtually echoed throughout the small shop, and Elsie's eyes combed the place, but to no avail.

"Good morning?" she called out hesitantly.

"Elsie Hughes, right? I'll be right out … just … grabbing … some … things," came the voice again, this time amidst the crumpling of what sounded like various garment bags and a clicking of clothes hangers in what Elsie presumed was the back room of the place.

Beryl just rolled her eyes at Elsie.

"Well," Elsie said quietly, "at least he's going to be prepared."

"Right," Beryl quipped. "There's always that. I assumed a _woman_ owned the shop. My mistake, evidently." She turned to the rack nearest them. "Oh, Elsie, look! It's the one in that catalog I showed you."

Elsie looked at the dress Beryl was holding and held her breath, hoping she wouldn't have to voice her opinion about it aloud. Beryl meant well, but what she'd chosen simply wasn't what Elsie had in mind.

Just then a mountain of dresses in zippered bags, presumably containing dresses, emerged from the back door - held, Elsie believed, by the owner of the mysterious voice.

"Sorry about that," said the man underneath the bags. He moved over to the empty rack waiting by the dressing room area and hung them one by one on the rod. "Took the liberty of pulling out a couple of things after speaking with you the other day …"

Elsie made her way over to the man and offered her hand, noting how his lank brown hair was much too long on top and kept falling in his face. "I'm Elsie," she said, her eyes glancing at the purple tape measure that hung loosely about his neck.

"Septimus Spratt," the man replied, shaking her hand firmly. "It's a pleasure." He turned to face the other ladies. "I presume you're all the wedding party, yes?"

"Not me," Anna replied for them all. "I'm just here for moral support."

"Nor I," Beryl added. "Caterer. Beryl Patmore, owner of _The Cheeky Devil_ up in Misty Cove."

"Oh! I've heard fabulous things about that place!" Septimus raved. "Excellent!"

Everyone sort of stared at him for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say. Only one thing was certain: Septimus Spratt was _not_ what they expected to encounter at the dress shop this morning.

"Do you _own_ this place, Mr. Spratt?" Beryl asked forwardly. Elsie cringed, closing her eyes briefly and sighing aloud.

But Septimus seemed unfazed by the question. "It's Septimus, please. And as it happens, I do not," he admitted. "It's my Mum's shop, but she moved two years ago and left me in charge." He looked around the place with pride and added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, "It used to be all _pink._ Can you possibly imagine? It was revolting! Had to change it all up to what it is now."

"Well, what it is now is _lovely,"_ Anna said. "And I've heard of you from a few friends who've shopped here. You do an incredible business! But surely you're not doing it all _yourself?"_

"Just me and Madge," he said, tilting his head toward the back room. "She's killer at alterations; I couldn't survive without her."

Becky and Daisy had moved over to the display in the window and were discussing it in hushed voices, pointing now and again to certain things on the dresses and then to other items across the room in the shop.

"What's all this?" Elsie asked gently, coming up between them and laying her hands on their shoulders. "Plotting away?"

Becky nodded seriously. "Daisy and I want to match," she said emphatically.

"You want to … match," Elsie repeated slowly.

"Yes," Daisy confirmed. "We know that we're supposed to have the same color, but Auntie Becky and I want the same _dress."_

"But yours will likely be one of those, Daisy," Elsie managed, indicating the girls' and younger ladies' dresses.

"No, Ellie. Please - we want to _match,"_ Becky insisted.

Elsie took a deep breath and turned to Septimus with a raised eyebrow and a plea in her eyes; he, however, was already smiling and nodding.

"We can make that happen," he assured her. "You said a simple, beachfront wedding, right? And no stark white. Champagne or a sand color for you, a darker color for these two lovely ladies? And the groom will be in a linen summer suit?"

"Precisely," Elsie confirmed.

"Well, then, why don't we start with what I've pulled out and go from there?" He indicated the rack of dresses with a flourish of his arm and a small bow in Elsie's direction, which made Anna giggle. Beryl hadn't noticed, though, because she was already elbow-deep in the garment bags, having taken it upon herself to unzip them and view their contents.

"Oh, Elsie," she breathed. _"Look."_

Septimus took the dress from Beryl's hands and hung it on a hook by the dressing room door.

"This was my first choice, actually, based upon the online questionnaire you submitted."

Anna turned from what she was looking at and gasped softly. "Elsie," she said, "go and try that on _now."_

But Elsie wasn't listening, really. She had moved over to the dress and was fingering the fabric of the one shoulder strap. It was soft and satiny, but not actually _satin._ She lifted the skirt a bit and was stunned at the weightlessness of the entire dress; it was perfect for a summertime wedding on the beach - it wasn't too heavy, and it was _exactly_ what she'd hoped to find.

"May I try it on?" she asked, and Septimus took it from where it was hanging and brought it into the dressing room, leaving it on the hook there. He held the door open for her and she made her way in.

"Please do," he said, unnecessarily. "We'll be out here perusing through some other things. Do you require any assistance?"

"Beryl can help me," she said, pulling her friend into the spacious cubicle and sitting her on the settee that was inside. "Thank you."

She closed the door and turned to look at Beryl.

"This is _exactly_ what I wanted."

"I know. Try it on, love."

* * *

"I like this one," Daisy was saying to Septimus, and he smiled at her.

"That one is lovely, my dear," he said kindly. "Tell me, Daisy, what are you looking forward to the most about the wedding?"

"Oh, that's easy," she whispered. "Elsie will be my new Mum then. My real Mum died last year, but I love Elsie so much."

"Well," Septimus said, quiet enough that only Daisy could hear, "sometimes it's hard to have someone take the place of a parent, but _sometimes_ the perfect person comes along and it's _almost_ like having them back. Almost."

"Almost," Daisy agreed with a nod.

"You know, my own Da died when I was about your age," Septimus confided. "Afterward, my Mum took up with someone new. It took me a while, but I ended up loving him like a second Da. I'm sure you'll have the same experience with Elsie. But if you have any worries, be sure you talk with your own father, hm?"

Daisy smiled at him, grateful for his understanding. "I will," she promised.

Septimus left her to keep browsing and made his way over to where Anna and Becky were. He struck up a conversation with them, pointing out things that Becky might consider trying on. They chatted a bit and Daisy joined them after a few minutes, but everyone whipped around at the sound of the dressing room door opening.

"Oh, Ellie!"

Becky rushed to her sister's side, mouth agape as she stared at Elsie, who was wearing the most gorgeous thing that Becky had ever seen.

The dress fit Elsie so well that she wasn't sure she'd even need it to be altered - not much, anyhow. Champagne in color, its rippled surface produced exactly the effect she'd expected when she'd first seen it: the appearance of loads of fabric that was, in fact, a total illusion. The dress had a form-fitting nature that accentuated Elsie's athletic frame, and the single, sleeveless strap - a couple of inches wide where it rested on her shoulder - left her other shoulder bare in a most elegant way. She'd thrown her hair in a simple ponytail for the day, having expected to be trying on an infinite number of things and not wanting to bother with it at all; she could see now that having it off of her face showed what the dress would look like when, in fact, her hair was styled for the wedding itself, with a few tendrils escaping and curling down toward her shoulders.

"What is it with you and dress karma?" Anna laughed. "You found the perfect one for Edith's wedding right away, too!"

Elsie nodded, flushing a bit as she imagined what Charles would think when he saw her in _this_ one. She wasn't conceited by any stretch, but she knew she looked fabulous. "Yes, but this one is infinitely more important," she whispered.

"She'll take it," Beryl said firmly to Septimus. "No question."

He looked to Elsie for confirmation, and she agreed. He tugged on the fabric in a few spots, checking the fit, and shook his head in wide-eyed amazement.

"Madge will barely have to _touch_ this," he marveled. "It's like it was made for you."

Elsie reached out and clasped his hand, smiling as she looked at him earnestly.

"Thank you," she gushed. "It's absolutely perfect."

She changed out of the dress and the ladies spent the next hour watching Daisy and Becky try things on ... to no avail.

"How about this?" Elsie suggested, holding up her favorite from the window display. "Oh, wait … perhaps not," she said, somewhat sad as she returned it to the rack, realizing that it would be appropriate for Daisy but certainly too juvenile for Becky.

"There's this one," Anna mused, selecting a dress and holding it up for consideration, but Daisy wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"Oh, Elsie, how about this?" Beryl said after another ten minutes.

Everyone turned to where she was standing - by the clearance rack, as it so happened - and looked at the dress she'd pulled out. It was a dark rust color, a simple, sleeveless cut, with a sash that tied around the waist and a slightly flared skirt that would come to about Becky's knees.

"Yes!" Daisy shouted, and Becky smiled and nodded.

"I like it, Ellie," she said.

Elsie turned to Septimus. "What are the chances you have this in both their sizes?" she asked. "I mean, that looks as though it might fit Becky, but …"

The problem was clear: the dresses were adult-sized, but Daisy was not.

"Hm," Septimus mused, flicking through the rack and looking at things, muttering to himself as he went. "No … clearly not … not that one … Oh, wait a minute …" He took one from the middle and whisked it into the back room, leaving the women alone in the storefront.

"Do you think there really _is_ a 'Madge' person in there?" Daisy wondered.

They all looked at each other and just shrugged; after five minutes, Septimus came back and beckoned to Daisy, who made her way over to where he stood.

"Here, here, and here," he said, taking the measuring tape from around his neck and measuring her small frame, writing the numbers down on a slip of paper. "Yes, yes … That may do …" He turned once again and went into the back room.

"What is he on about?" Beryl muttered.

"I suspect he has a plan for Daisy," Elsie answered, looking at her girl and smiling, "although what the plan _is_ is anyone's guess."

Septimus returned once again, beaming. "We can do it," he confirmed, holding up a dress. _"This_ dress, which is a petite, can be altered adequately for Daisy. The length will come lower on her than it will on Becky, but as we have Becky's size on the rack, we can make it happen."

"Well, Becky - let's try it on," Elsie said, taking the one that was Becky's size and heading into the dressing area with her.

As she zipped up the back of Becky's dress, Elsie had to take a deep, steadying breath. Her hands fluttered and she had to struggle to focus. She shook her head to clear it.

"Ellie? Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Elsie whispered tearfully at Becky's back. "I was just remembering the last time I zipped you into a dress for my wedding. Do you remember, love?"

"I do," Becky said, a smile in her voice that only Elsie would hear. "It was such a pretty wedding, Ellie. The church was big and beautiful, and you looked like a _princess."_

Elsie laughed softly. "Well, I don't know about _that,_ but it was a lovely day." She paused, and bit her lip, then backed up and sat abruptly on the padded bench behind her.

Becky joined her and clasped her hand. "You're sad, Ellie. About Joe?"

Elsie squeezed Becky's hand and slowly nodded. "Yes … and no. I'm sad because I remember how happy we were, and in the end …"

"It went bad," Becky said, staring at her lap. "My fault," she added in a whisper.

"Becky, _no._ Oh, love, is that what you think?" Elsie asked. "It wasn't _your_ fault, sweetheart. It was _never_ because of you. Joe was … complicated. He ended up having problems that he didn't have in the beginning. People change, and not always for the better. That's just the way life is. But Joe always made his own decisions; nothing that happened was because of you."

Becky licked her lips as she thought about that, and they sat in silence for a few moments before she spoke again.

"Ellie?"

"Yes, dear?"

"That means it wasn't _your_ fault, either."

Elsie sat back against the wall, astonished by Becky's perceptiveness even though she was so familiar with it. "I suppose not," she admitted tearfully, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips.

Becky turned and wrapped her sister in an enormous hug. "Don't cry, Ellie," she whispered. "Charlie isn't like Joe."

"No," Elsie said, smiling through her tears, "he's certainly not."

Moments later, eyes dried and dress smoothed out, they emerged from the dressing room.

"And did you two solve all of the world's problems in there?" Beryl asked kindly.

Elsie smiled at her friend and wrapped her arm around Becky's waist. "Enough of them," she said with a soft smile. "Now, tell me … What do you ladies think?"

Daisy let out a soft _"Ohh,"_ and Anna and Beryl nodded.

"It's lovely," Anna whispered.

"Is it what you wanted?" Becky asked her sister.

"Is it what _you_ wanted? That's more important to me," Elsie assured her.

"I love it."

Septimus came over and tugged on the dress, same as he'd done for Elsie.

"We'll let it out a bit here," he said quietly, and Becky nodded. "Are you happy with the length?"

"Yup."

"Alright, then."

Septimus called Elsie over to the counter and they discussed the details. They filled out order forms while the others plopped themselves on the cushioned benches in the dressing area and chatted quietly.

"He's not what I expected at all," Beryl admitted. "Very good listener, that one. You'd never know from looking at him, but he knows his stuff."

"I agree," Anna said, nodding.

"He is a good listener," Daisy chimed in, thinking about the words they'd exchanged about Elsie.

Elsie returned. "Everyone ready? The dresses will be ready next week and we'll come in for a final fitting."

"I'm ready," Becky said emphatically. "We need shoes now, right? And then flowers?"

Elsie reached out and took her hand. "Right you are, my dear," she praised. "Anna? You're driving."

"My pleasure," she giggled, ignoring the huff from Beryl. "I'll drive back to the farm, too, so no worries there if you want wine with dinner tonight, Beryl."

"Well, then, I suppose that's alright," Beryl said. "Thank you."

Elsie climbed into the car, ignoring for the second time that day the uncomfortable feeling she'd had in her stomach, a thing she'd started noticing last week during one of her more intense therapy appointments.

 _It's nothing,_ she told herself. _You'll be fine._

* * *

"There you are, Tommy!" Charles found the boy inside the barn, petting Scarlett and feeding her a carrot from a bunch he had clutched in his hand. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry," Tommy mumbled. "Just needed some quiet time in here."

"Hm," Charles muttered. "Well, I can certainly understand that. It's been rather a circus around this place the last week or two. Shall I come back later?"

"Nah, it's alright," Tommy said quietly.

Charles moved up next to the boy and held his hand out for one of the carrots, which Tommy readily passed over.

They spent a few moments in silence, and then Charles gently prodded, "Care to tell me what's on your mind, or would you rather not talk about it?"

Tommy hesitated. "I … I'm not sure how to explain it, really. It's stupid, I think."

"I doubt that very much," Charles said quietly. "You're very like Elsie, you know, but you're also like me - in this way, at least. You ponder things ... brood, almost. I'm sure whatever it is, you've gone through it a million times in your head, looked at it from every angle. But I respect your desire for privacy, if that is, indeed, what you wish for."

Charles had a feeling he knew what Tommy wanted to discuss; Elsie had prepared him a bit after the incident with Phillip at the school. She felt that Tommy was starting to question himself - his feelings, what he thought about them, and what sat at the root of his issue with Phillip. Charles had blustered a bit, feeling Tommy too young to be having those types of thoughts, but Elsie had insisted that he wasn't. So Charles stood there and mentally prepared himself for what he thought was coming - and he was so completely _wrong_ that Tommy's first sentence stunned him completely.

"I'm afraid of the wedding," Tommy whispered.

"Wait … what?"

"I told you it was stupid," Tommy muttered, kicking the post next to Scarlett's stall door, startling her a bit.

"No, it's not. It's just not what I expected you to say," Charles replied.

Tommy looked up at him. "What were you expecting?"

"That," Charles said firmly, eyebrows raised, "is not a conversation for today, I don't think. Now, tell me what has you worried about the wedding. Is it doing the reading? Because I can ask -"

"No," Tommy interrupted, "it's not that. It's not the ceremony. It's the … after."

Charles cocked his head in confusion. "I'm not sure I know what you're getting at. What do you imagine will be different _after_ the wedding?"

Tommy actually _laughed_ at that. "Everything! How can you even ask me that?" He turned in a huff and walked out the door, stopping by the paddock fence and leaning up against it.

"Good thing that's off," Charles said sarcastically, following him.

"I shut it off earlier," Tommy said absentmindedly. "They're locked in their stalls for now."

 _Alright …_ Charles tried to imagine what was eating away at the boy, but he just couldn't.

"Look, if you want, why don't you just _tell_ me what's bothering you, and we'll see if we can't do something about it."

Tommy was silent for such a long time that Charles didn't think he'd speak at all. They stood side-by-side, looking out over the fence to the trees beyond the paddock. A rabbit hopped out from the underbrush, sniffed the air, and hopped away.

"Overrun with those this year," Charles grumbled. "But Daisy loves them."

The breeze picked up, fluttering the long grasses and reminding Tommy that Elsie wanted him to mow the yard by the weekend. He sighed deeply.

"When you're married," he began, "you and Elsie and Daisy will be a proper family. Parents and a kid. And I'm … well, I'm not _yours._ I won't be part of that."

"But, Tommy, nothing is different just because we're getting married," Charles said, confused.

"Of course it is! It's _totally_ different! It'll be … well, official, I suppose. And I'm just … here. The extra person who doesn't really belong. It seemed okay before, because you and Elsie aren't married yet and she's not really Daisy's Mum, either. But that's going to change. And what if you want more children? What if you decide you don't have room for me anymore? You'll have this new _thing_ that you all share, and I'll just be …"

"Left out?" Charles supplied, and Tommy nodded, clamping his lips shut in his dismay. "But, Tommy, whatever makes you think that? Have we done anything to make you feel like we wouldn't _want_ you after the wedding? Because if we have, then I'm truly sorry." Charles raked his hands through his hair, wishing he could figure out where the boy was coming from. "Nothing could be further from the truth."

"And if you have more children?" Tommy persisted. "What then? You could have a son of your own." He looked down at his fingers, which were clasped together over the edge of the fence. "You wouldn't want to be stuck with _me_ then, would you?"

Charles smiled a bit, a ghost of a memory flitting through his brain.

"See, you think I'm being stupid," Tommy grumbled angrily.

"No, it's just that you reminded me of something Elsie said to me once. Look, Tommy," he said quietly, "our inviting you here wasn't a temporary arrangement. We didn't go into it thinking you could stay here until something _better_ came along. We care about you, young man, and are happy to have you here as long as you want to be with us."

"Even if you and Elsie have more kids?"

Charles chuckled. "Even then, which isn't likely, for reasons I don't need to discuss with _you."_

Tommy nodded, not really wanting to keep his mind on that particular line of thinking anyhow.

"I have something I'd like to give you, Tommy," Charles said suddenly. "I was going to wait until the wedding, but this seems like a better time."

"Okay," Tommy said, his brow furrowed. "I was going to check on the ducklings. What if I meet you out back in a bit?"

"Of course," he said, knowing Tommy needed a moment to digest what they'd just discussed. "I'll grab us something for lunch, too, alright?"

"Yeah, that'd be great." Tommy said, finally cracking a smile. Charles nodded swiftly before heading into the house.

"Come on, Max," Charles called.

Max had been watching them from his spot on the lawn, and he followed Charles into the house.

"How about a snack, hm? Just don't tell your Mum."

Charles put together two sandwiches and plated them with the remainder of some fruit salad they had in the fridge. Max sat obediently by his side, waiting until Charles finished what he was doing. Eventually Charles turned around, a slice of cheese in his hands.

"Here we are, boy," Charles murmured, tearing off little bits for Max. "Our little secret."

"And mine, now," Tommy laughed from the doorway.

Charles whipped around, caught red-handed, and Max took the opportunity to steal the second half of the slice, swallowing it whole and making Tommy and Charles laugh.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Elsie anything," Tommy said, "because she'd _kill_ you. I just came in to see if you needed help carrying stuff out."

"Thank you, and yes, I'd like that," Charles said, handing Tommy the plates. "I just need to retrieve the item I mentioned, and I'll meet you outside with some drinks, too."

"Sounds good," said Tommy, already halfway out the door.

Charles went into the bedroom and opened one of his bureau drawers, withdrawing a wrapped package before closing the drawer and passing back through the kitchen for two glasses of water. Thus armed, he made his way out to the patio table where, he was pleased to see, Tommy had placed their dishes and waited for Charles to appear before beginning to eat.

"Thank you, Tommy," he said, taking his seat and handing the boy one of the drinks.

"Thank _you._ This looks great," Tommy said, digging in.

They ate in silence for a while, gazing out over the pond at the ducks - Mum and four ducklings, swimming about. There was a gentle breeze blowing through the trees; it was warm out, but pleasantly so, and the shade on the patio was perfect. Tommy couldn't remember many times in his life when he'd felt at peace, but the ones he _could_ put a finger on had almost exclusively happened at the L'il Farm.

"Here," Charles said when they'd finished eating.

The boy took the package from Charles's outstretched hands. He squeezed it a bit and immediately identified what it contained … sort of.

"Charles …" he began, but Charles just shook his head.

"Open it, and I'll explain," he said with a meaningful look, and Tommy obeyed.

Inside the paper was, as expected, a picture frame. Tommy had assumed it was the picture of him and Laura that he kept in his room; the frame had broken last week and Elsie had said they'd replace it.

But the photo inside wasn't that one at all. It was a picture from the last week of school when Tommy, Daisy, Elsie, and Charles had been at the school play. The event had been a rousing success, raising funds for the special education program at the school. A professional photographer had been hired for the event, and he'd taken pictures of all the kids and their families.

The photographer had joked about how Tommy and Daisy had made it easier on him by having the same parents - one picture, not two - and Tommy remembered laughing before stopping suddenly and being overcome with a sense of … well, he couldn't identify it, really. _Worry,_ he remembered thinking. Nothing more had been said, for they'd been rushed ahead to make room for the next group photo.

The edges of the frame were quite wide, probably two inches or so across; it was wooden, painted a deep blue. Tommy fingered the bottom of the frame, on which Charles had affixed a long metal tag. He squinted to read it, his brow furrowed, and as he took in the words his face flushed with emotion.

 _When I speak of home, I speak of the place where - in default of a better - those I love are gathered together; and if that place were a gypsy's tent, or a barn, I should call it by the same good name notwithstanding._

"It's Dickens, of course," Charles said softly. _"Nicholas Nickleby._ It's about a boy who struggles to care for his mother and sister amidst a variety of challenges and abuse; however, in spite of it all, he finds happiness in the end."

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut as he took it all in.

"I was going to give this to you after the wedding, as I said before," Charles explained. "I thought it was too soon after your losing your Mum to do so now. But, after our conversation today, I changed my mind."

He took the wrapping paper from the center of the table and folded it mindlessly in his large hands; four times into a strip, then once at the center, and then triangles from that point to the ends. He chose to look at that instead of at Tommy, so as not to make either of them uncomfortable.

"We care about you, Tommy. We _love_ you, and you're already a part of this family. Perhaps it seems temporary or unofficial to you, but it doesn't have to be."

"You mean … Wait, you'd actually consider _adopting_ me one day?" Tommy asked, disbelieving what he was hearing. "You're lying."

Charles continued to look at the paper in his hands but raised his eyebrows, and Tommy remembered instantly.

"No," he amended, "you can't be. You promised."

"That I did," Charles replied. He looked up at Tommy. "You see, Tommy, no matter what might ever happen in the future, Elsie and I are in this for the long haul … if you want us. You are Mary's nephew, remember. So we're _stuck with you,_ as you put it, regardless of whether or not you live here, because we'll all be family no matter what."

"When?" Tommy asked suddenly.

"Sorry?"

"If you did adopt me, when would it be?" He said it almost as a challenge; he trusted Charles, but was having trouble believing the truth nevertheless.

"Based on the conversations Elsie and I have had about it," Charles said, meeting the challenge, "we could start the process as soon as you made up your mind."

"' _Conversations?'_ How many, exactly?"

Charles laughed. "Several," he confirmed. "The first of which was right around when you moved in."

"Oh," Tommy answered, taken aback. "Well, that's new."

"What is?"

Tommy looked him directly in the eyes.

"The idea of having a … a _father_ who … _wants_ me," he whispered.

Charles sat back and tossed the paper he'd been playing with onto his now-empty plate.

"My childhood was much like yours in many ways, Tommy," he said, tenting his fingers over his stomach.

"I doubt it," Tommy said snidely, but Charles chose to ignore his tone.

"Not financially, I'll give you that. And my own father wasn't physically abusive. But he was rarely home, didn't care much about me or my mother, and spent a lot of time with other women.

"My mother chose to deal with all of that by drinking it away," he continued quietly. "I'd often come down from my room and find her passed out. I'd have to clean her up, sometimes help her to bed. She wasn't always … kind … when I'd find her, but I'd try to help her regardless."

Tommy nodded slowly, staring back at the ducks now, watching the mother duck carefully lead her ducklings through the water and then up onto the beach to rest, recognizing that at least _his_ Mum had loved him very much, appreciating his efforts instead of criticizing them.

"Once I was older, I started at University," Charles continued. "I met your Aunt Mary's father, and the Crawleys sort of took me in as an unofficial member. For decades now, they've been the only family I've known except for Daisy and her mother … until I met Elsie, anyhow. And you.

"I tell you this not so that you'll feel sorry for me, and not with any sense of competition about who had it worse, because that would undoubtedly be you."

"And Elsie," Tommy whispered, which Charles acknowledged with a raised eyebrow, wondering not for the first time just what the boy knew about Elsie's past.

"Just so," he said. "But I think it's important for you to understand that _I_ see where you're coming from, too. I know what it's like to have a new family come along and take you in, for you to feel the need to question how real that could possibly be, and what a struggle it can be to trust their intentions."

"But it all worked out okay for you," Tommy said. "Of course, you were an adult then anyhow, weren't you?"

"I was. But it could work out for you, too. Here _or_ elsewhere, if that was your preference. But we have no desire for you to leave … that is, not if you want to stay."

Tommy looked back at him one final time. "And you promise?" he whispered. "If I decide I want to stay - forever - then that _can_ happen?"

Charles smiled and nodded once more, hoping that he'd once and for all eliminated Tommy's insecurity and fear about being loved.

"I promise."

"Hm."

"It's not been long, Tommy. You don't have to make any decisions now."

"I know. But I love it here, with you and Elsie and Daisy. I _feel_ like you're already my family."

"So do we," Charles replied.

"I'll think about it, if that's what you want. But I don't think I'll change my mind. I'd like to stay, if you'll have me. Permanently."

* * *

As Anna parked by the front path to Elsie's house, she yawned widely.

"None of us drank except for Beryl, and I'm still exhausted!" she complained.

"Maybe you're pregnant?" Beryl quipped from her place in the back seat, but she caught the look on Anna's face in the rear-view mirror and instantly regretted her words. "Oh, I'm sorry, love," she added quietly.

Anna shook her head. "Don't be. I wish you were right, but it's just not happening."

Elsie reached over and patted Anna's hand.

"You're young, Anna, and you've got time. Don't stress about it - that makes it worse. Trust me."

"I know."

They got out of the car and Anna headed to her own. "Tell Charles and Bill I said hello, alright? And Tommy, too!" she called, waving as she got in.

Elsie sent Daisy into the house and turned to Beryl.

"Spill it, Beryl. You've been silent since we dropped off Becky."

"I wish you'd tell me what's the matter," Beryl said.

"Who says anything's the matter?"

Beryl raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Elsie rolled her eyes. "It's nothing, I'm sure."

" _I'm_ not sure." She pursed her lips. "How long before you check?" she asked.

"Check what?" Elsie challenged. "I don't even know what you're talking about!"

"Elsie," Beryl said slowly, "you're exhausted. You've been exhausted for weeks, which I chalked up to the therapy sessions mixed with your having returned to work."

"It _has_ been exhausting!" Elsie cried, and Beryl nodded, shushing her.

"I know," she said reassuringly. "But now you're not feeling well. You looked awful when I got here this morning - no color in your face at all - you ate nothing before lunch, and you barely finished your coffee. You almost passed out at the dress shop, and you cried four times today."

"It's the wedding," Elsie said. "It's bringing up a lot of emotions is all."

"I'm sure it is," Beryl said patiently, stopping by the bench in the front garden.

"Shit," Elsie whispered, moving over to the bench and plopping down, Beryl joining her after a moment. Elsie reached out and took Beryl's hand.

"How long ago was your last cycle, Els?"

Elsie shook her head. "I'm not sure, really. A few weeks? But it's been off for years, and worse since I fell. I asked Richard about it, actually."

"And what did he say?" Beryl pushed.

"He asked if we were doing anything to _prevent_ a pregnancy," Elsie admitted.

"Which you're not," Beryl guessed, and Elsie nodded.

"Exactly. And he did reassure me that, should I ever become pregnant, my overall good health would be a benefit despite my age. But he also cautioned me that suffering a fall, and going through all the stress associated with it, will often produce a highly irregular cycle, and he told me I shouldn't get my hopes up.

"But these symptoms you've mentioned as your so-called evidence could simply be menopause, too, Beryl."

But Beryl shook her head. "Not all of them, Elsie. I've already gone through that, remember? It doesn't make you ill in the morning, that's for sure. Instead of not eating, you'd be more likely to eat more, and most assuredly you'd have started to put on weight. You're the nurse, Elsie. Why do I even have to _tell_ you this?"

Elsie sniffed, and Beryl realized she was crying - again.

"Elsie? Do you and Charlie _want_ this? I mean … well, I suppose I always assumed you did."

"We'd welcome a wee bairn so very, very much," Elsie breathed, her accent thickening with her emotion and fatigue. "But we've tried so hard not to get our hopes up. And we have this wedding now, and our honeymoon. My God, Beryl, what if you're right?"

"If I'm right, then three of you go on that trip instead of two," Beryl said simply. She wrapped her arm around Elsie. "And you have a relaxing, marvelous, _wonderful_ time."

"It's only been a few of days that I've not felt well," Elsie admitted. "It could easily still be nerves."

"Perhaps," Beryl acknowledged. "Give it a week, and if you're still ill, come by the restaurant after work one day. I'll get you a kit, and we can do it there if you want."

"No. If I do this, Charles sits right beside me, watching me pee and all," Elsie laughed. "He would kill me if I did that without him. And given how long ago my last cycle was, I could probably take an accurate test now if I wanted."

"Fair enough," Beryl said, standing and offering her hand to Elsie. "How's your back, by the way? Because that can feel worse, too."

"Yes, I remember. But it's been fine for about a month now. Richard says it's a good sign that things have almost returned to norm- Oh … Oh, my God, Beryl … How would I ever manage to _carry_ a baby now? I mean, I'm fine today, but ..."

"Bedrest," she said simply. "Once the baby was big enough, that'd likely be the route you'd take." She hesitated, but Elsie pushed her.

"What?"

"Only," Beryl said, "well, when you were pregnant before, did it take a while for you to show?" She regretted the look of sadness she saw in Elsie's deep blue eyes, but it was blinked away almost immediately.

"Yes, actually. The doctor was astounded because my frame is so small, but he said some women are just that way."

"Well," Beryl reasoned, "that would help, at least in the beginning, I'd imagine. When I had my William, you could tell by month two that I was pregnant. You'll have more time to get used to it than I did, and that should help."

" _If_ there's anything even happening," Elsie reminded her.

"Right. Now, come on. Your big Charlie Bear must be worried about you."

Elsie took Beryl's arm as they walked to the front door. "Thank you," Elsie whispered, leaning her head sideways onto Beryl's and then kissing her temple.

"Don't you mention it," Beryl smiled, squeezing Elsie's hand in her arm. "But talk to him - tonight, alright?"

"I will. I promise."

* * *

Elsie was in the sunroom, waiting for Charles to come down after his shower. Her hair was still wet from her own, and she'd combed it and let it hang loosely so that it would dry faster. It was mild out and she'd opened the windows, allowing a nice breeze to cool the room.

She pulled her robe more tightly around her and walked over to the corner, reaching out to pat Max on the head. He was curled up in the chair - _his_ chair, the one no one else ever sat in. He'd climbed into it so many times immediately after running through the pond that Elsie had long-ago begun counseling people to avoid it completely.

Max whined a bit and stretched, then yawned _very_ widely and turned in a circle, plopping down once again and licking Elsie's hand. She scratched him behind the ears.

"What will you think of all of this, hm? It'll certainly give _you_ a new focus, won't it?"

She heard Charles's footsteps and turned to face him, her smile faltering as she saw the glasses in his hand.

"Here," he said, offering her a glass, but she put up her hand and shook her head.

"I don't think I should," she whispered.

"Come on," he protested. "The kids are in bed now." He tilted his head in her direction and placed a glass in her hand and she was forced to grasp it. He raised his own glass toward her. "Let's toast your successful day!"

She touched her glass to his halfheartedly and pretended to sip her wine, but then she placed the glass on the table and sat down, beckoning him to sit by her side.

"Charles -" she began.

"Elsie -" he said at the same time, and they both laughed.

"You first," she insisted.

He sat back and relayed his discussion with Tommy, draining his glass in between his descriptions of how he'd found the young man in the barn, how they'd spoken, how they'd shared lunch together, and how he'd given Tommy the photo he and Elsie had gotten framed as a gift for the wedding.

"He wants us to _adopt_ him? Officially?" She couldn't believe her ears; what were the chances? The timing couldn't have been worse if they'd planned it, not with the bombshell she was about to drop.

"He does," Charles confirmed, beaming. "It took some convincing on my part that we actually discussed it, and that we'd welcome him. The poor lad still finds it hard to believe we really _want_ him …"

"Of course we do," Elsie said quickly, her eyes filling with tears which she smiled through.

Charles reached out and wiped them, trying with all his might to ignore how her robe had opened slightly, affording him a glimpse of the curve of her breast.

"When?" she asked. "I mean, when should we start all of that - assuming he doesn't change his mind. Could we wait until after the wedding?"

"I did some research into that, actually," Charles said, setting his glass beside hers. He indicated her glass, but she shook her head.

"And?"

"Well," he said slowly, "it appears that November is National Adoption Month, and there's a day when loads of families travel to the state capital for adoptions at some enormous ceremony."

"Yes," Elsie replied. "I've heard of that. It's a great opportunity for so many children."

"Precisely," he said, smiling and waiting for her to catch on.

Elsie's eyes flew open. "Wait … _What?_ Charlie, we'd never have it all ready by then! Adoption paperwork takes _months_ to process - up to a _year_ sometimes!"

"I may have called Phyllis while you were out," he admitted, rubbing his hand around the back of his neck. "She said that when there are recent home visits on file and everyone's paperwork is up-to-date, they will often rush applications through to have as many families as possible able to participate in November."

Elsie flopped back against the cushions, digesting everything he was saying. She sat open-mouthed, moving her lips occasionally as if to speak but then deciding against it.

Charles looked at her with a sense of confusion, suddenly very afraid that he'd overstepped once again. But, no … they'd _talked_ about this. Repeatedly. He _knew_ they were on the same page regarding Tommy.

"Elsie?"

She looked at him, saw his lack of confidence, the worry pouring out of his eyes that he'd made some grave error in judgement.

"Oh, Charlie, it's alright," she said, soothing him with her voice as her hand reached out for his and grasped it tightly.

"I hope we've not shocked you, Tommy and I, having discussed this between us," he said, the worry still evident in his voice if not in his eyes. "But I felt it was better to have it all out in the open once he raised the matter today. He was feeling … well, a bit lost, I think."

"I agree - _much_ better. No, that's not what concerns me," she hedged.

"Elsie, love, what _is_ it?" He reached his hand out and pulled her lip out from under her teeth. "Tell me," he implored, and she nodded.

"Our family is getting bigger," she whispered, and a grin broke out on his face.

"It's amazing. I never thought I'd be gaining a wife _and_ a son this year," he marveled.

"Charlie, that's not what I meant. Not … entirely."

"I'm not following," he said after a few seconds.

"I wouldn't have brought this up at all tonight, but I didn't see how I could keep it from you for another week or two."

"Elsie, what in the world are you talking about?"

And then, all of a sudden, it hit him: her fatigue, the struggle she'd been having with her therapy recently despite a stellar start, her emotions being all over the place, which he realized now he'd incorrectly attributed to the stress of the upcoming wedding.

"Oh, my God," he breathed, his face slack-jawed as he simply stared at her for a moment.

Elsie just licked her lips and nodded slowly, her own eyes wide, full of wonder and love and tinged with a bit of fear.

It was the fear he saw that snapped Charles back to reality, and he grasped her face in his hands and plunged his lips down upon hers, taking her breath away as he kissed her deeply.

"I can't be sure," she said after she'd broken away from him, "and it might be too early to tell. I'm scared, Charles. I'm _so frightened."_

"I know," he said, drawing her into his arms. "But we'll deal with everything together."

* * *

 _ **Friday, July 10, 2015**_

 _ **10:15 a.m.**_

Elsie and Charles were standing by the bathroom sink, staring at the test stick that was resting on the counter, and waiting.

"Were you the first person at the pharmacy?" Elsie teased. "They open at nine."

"I thought it best to get there when no one else would be about."

"And to visit one two towns over where no one knows us," she said, nodding. "That was brilliant of you, I must say."

"Thank you."

They kept staring at the thing in silence, occasionally glancing at the clock.

"Three weeks," she said quietly.

"Three weeks," he agreed, leaning over and smiling into her hair as he kissed her head. "And then you are _all mine_ for the honeymoon."

Elsie laughed. "Is that all you're thinking about? Seven days alone in God knows where?"

"Yes," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

The timer Elsie had set beeped, making them both jump. She reached out to pick up the test stick, her fingers shaking; she peeked in the little window, then promptly dropped the test into the sink.

Charles leaned in and picked it up, then turned to look at Elsie in wonder.

"Holy shit," she whispered, tears pricking her eyes once again.

"Holy shit," he agreed. "Elsie?"

"Mm-hm?"

He grasped her hands in his and kissed the backs of them, needing to hold onto her in case she fainted.

"We're going to need a new house."

She gulped, then nodded.

"We are," she laughed, biting down on her lip as she smiled, her tears freely falling now. "We are."

 _ **Let me remind you, you are so close, you've come so far.**_

 _ **There's enough love in my heart**_

 _ **to give you a place to heal,**_

 _ **to hold you, so you feel that there's enough love in this world.**_

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **All I can say in my defense is that this has been planned in my own head for months … probably since around Chapter 32 or so. Can't wait to hear who's still with me. :)**

 **As the lovely Danielle Shepherd would say, this can be considered a lead-in to the final "act" of my story.**

 **(shameless plug) Another Brother Sun song for this chapter. I use them more than almost any other artist, and yet they're only well-known in American church coffeehouse settings. Do check them out - website is their name and a dot and then the com. The song is on Spotify.**

 **Special shout-out to lemacd123 for her amazing advice on Tommy's story line and how that will be progressing. She's been like my secret weapon to get the legal stuff right, and I love her for it. And, as always, eternal gratitude and love for brenna-louise, who betas this fic and offered tireless support. And to my BIMP squad - love you!**


	48. Of Minds and Hearts

**Minor T/W: Discussion of high-risk pregnancy. Medical information based partly on information gathered from the Mayo Clinic and partly on my own personal experience. (Dammit, Jim, I'm a writer, not a doctor, so please bear with me.)**

 **THANK YOU for the reviews for the last chapter! You all just continue to blow me away with your kindness. Even if it's** _ **not**_ **the story line you wanted, I appreciate you sticking by me. I know some readers have left, but I'm so grateful to hear from those of you who are still here.**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Monday, July 13, 2015**_

"Well, you don't do anything by halves, do you?" Richard asked.

Elsie barked out a nervous laugh. "Then it's true? I'm really pregnant?" She reached for Charles, who grasped her hand firmly between both of his own before laying them on her knee.

They were seated in the chairs next to Richard's examining table, and he was seated on the wheeled stool behind his computer.

"It's still early on, but yes. Judging from what you've told me, I'd say you're about six weeks along."

She calculated silently: _Six weeks … Just before my birthday … The day I got the truck … "Maybe tonight,_ _ **I**_ _can take care of_ _ **you**_ _…"_

She flushed a deep crimson and nodded, sure that she was right. That night had been … well, _different._

"Yes," she whispered, "that's probably accurate."

"Well, add to that what you just told me about Tommy, and I'd say you'll have your hands full for sure."

Charles took a deep, cleansing breath. He never really imagined they'd be having this conversation with a doctor. It was … _Well,_ he thought, _quite a lot to take in._ But he couldn't deny that he was happy, and gloriously so.

"There are concerns, of course, given your history," Richard was saying, all business despite his worry for his friends. "Your age is against you, although you're in excellent health overall, save for the issues with your back."

"Which has been fine the past week or two," Elsie said. "As long as I don't sit for too long, I seem to be alright."

"You've increased the weight-bearing as well, yes?"

"Nothing too heavy," Charles answered for her, looking fondly at Elsie and squeezing her hand. "But she did manage to sneak a laundry basket or two last week."

"Would you say you're keeping it under twenty pounds?" Richard asked, and Elsie nodded. He typed a couple of things into the computer.

"Once you're out of the first trimester, we'll set you up with an exercise regimen, something that will balance the weakness in your back with low-impact strength building, working in conjunction with the baby's growth. And you've had just the one pregnancy before this one?"

"Oh, no," she whispered. "There were three, but only one ever made it past the first two months."

She felt Charles's eyes on her and she turned to face him. "I've never told anyone that but my doctor back home," she said tearfully. "Not even Joe."

Charles squeezed her hand again, lacing her fingers with his.

"Well, that _is_ important," Richard said, adding that to her file. "And you've felt fine this entire time, save a bit of nausea?"

Elsie wiped at her eyes with her fingertips and nodded. "Yes. I was light-headed the day we went shopping, but that was probably because of the large coffee and no breakfast," she said wryly. "And I've been a bit … oh, I don't know. Not moody, just not … quite right."

"But no spotting?" Richard asked, and Elsie shook her head. "No odd cramping or discomfort?"

"None at all," she replied.

Richard looked resolutely at the screen. "And you've been sexually active since conception, I presume?"

"Yes, we have." She kept her eyes trained on Richard's keyboard, and felt Charles stiffen his grip slightly as she was speaking. "Um, a few times a week, or thereabouts. But no discomfort, nor any other issues, afterward."

Charles cleared his throat. "Is ... _that_ ... something we should avoid?"

"Not necessarily. Things seem fine so far. I'd be … careful," Richard said. "I'd recommend limiting it a little bit more, and being sure to take a day of rest in between each time," he said, "to be sure there's no problem."

He looked up at them. "Everyone's number-one goal needs to be to keep this baby exactly where it is. Sex isn't usually a problem with pregnancy, but with a history of miscarriage coupled with a high-risk pregnancy, it's a bit more of a concern. Still, unless there are warning signs after the act - any spotting of blood, excessive cramping, or general unease - you're probably alright." He smiled. "It's a double-edged sword, in a way, because sex is also a stress reducer."

"You said 'high risk'," Charles recalled. "What, precisely, do you mean? Risk to Elsie, or to the baby? Or both?"

Richard typed a few more things in before logging off of Elsie's file. He rolled his stool away from the desk, tucking his hands in the pockets of his lab coat.

"There are a number of factors - risks, if you will - to take into consideration when a mother is over the age of thirty-five," he began. "But, beginning at age _forty-_ five, they increase slightly. As a woman ages, the overall _quality,_ for lack of a better word, of her eggs decreases; consequently, there is an increased risk of birth defects. There are also increased risks to the mother, such as gestational diabetes and preeclampsia. Preterm delivery is more common for older women than it is for younger mothers. However, my primary concern right now is that with _any_ pregnancy where the mother is over forty, the chance of miscarriage during the first trimester is significantly higher - regardless of prior history."

Elsie nodded, knowing all of that already. "But we can go on honeymoon as planned?" she asked. "I can travel. We can … well, we should limit ... _things_ … but otherwise we're fine?"

"Yes," Richard said, smiling kindly in his understanding. "I know the destination is a surprise. I presume it's not anywhere that poses a health risk? Not China? Nothing like Haiti or Mexico, or anywhere like Africa that requires certain special inoculations?"

"No," Charles said, reaching for a blank appointment card and pulling a pen from his shirt pocket. He jotted a note on the card and showed it to Richard, who smiled and nodded.

"Well, Elsie … it looks like you're very lucky, indeed. It seems that a week of sheer relaxation and pampering is in your future."

Elsie couldn't help the happy sigh that escaped her lips. "He promised it would be warm. That's all I know, I'm afraid."

"Well, he didn't lie about that," Richard reassured her.

He looked at his friends and tried to assuage their fears. "Your wedding is in a couple of weeks. Take it easy until then," he advised. "That'll put you two-thirds of the way through this trimester. We'll run blood tests before the wedding, and then frequently throughout the entire pregnancy. You'll have more appointments than you might have had under other circumstances, but I want to keep a close eye on you."

His eyes locked on Elsie's, and he continued. "I don't have to tell you how important it is that you remain as healthy as possible these next few weeks. _No_ stress. Any wedding worries that come up are to be dealt with by Charles or by someone else. Get plenty of sleep. Cut the caffeine down to one cup a day, and obviously no alcohol. I'll give you a prescription for prenatal vitamins; if you can't stomach them," he added with a smirk, "take Flintstones*. They've got the iron you'll need, but they're gentler."

"Got it," Elsie said determinedly.

"We'll schedule you in again for the day or two before the wedding," Richard added. "By then, we just may be able to hear the baby's heartbeat, if you're willing."

Elsie gasped and squeezed Charles's fingers, and she felt a tear slip down her cheek as she nodded. "Oh, my," she breathed. "It's all real. _Really_ real."

"I know," Richard said kindly.

"Richard?" Charles asked, a thought just having occurred to him. "When are you scheduled to transfer the practice over to the new owner?"

"Ah, yes," Richard replied. "Well, we're planning to transfer appointments over in September. I'll be staying around until the new year, although I will be back and forth a bit to England."

He smiled brightly at Elsie. "You'll be in good hands," he promised. "And both Isobel and I will be here in February, and by then she'll know so I'm sure she'll agree that we should stay and see you through until the end. I won't tell her a thing now, but when you do decide to inform the family …"

"I promise we'll let you know," Charles said. "We don't even want to tell the children until after the honeymoon; we'd prefer to keep the news to ourselves for now, at least until we're safely into the second trimester."

"That's probably a good idea," Richard said, nodding. "My guess is you've got about seven weeks until then, give or take. So ... a couple of weeks after school gets back, perhaps?"

"Yes, and the timing couldn't be better," Elsie said. "I'll be able to rest for most of the summer and blame it on my back; no one will be the wiser … unless something happens," she added quietly.

"There is absolutely no reason to think this will end in disaster, Elsie," Charles said soothingly. He leaned over and kissed her temple, and Richard agreed.

"Watch the activity level, eat well, and rest. No stress - that's absolutely key, Elsie. But as we stand right now, provided that the blood tests come back okay, this looks like any other normal pregnancy."

Elsie's bright smile lit up the room. They all stood, and she moved to give Richard a warm hug.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You're more than welcome," he replied with a smile. "I must say, I'm glad you came to me. I know you have your regular physician, and you could just have gone there."

"Well," Elsie winked, "I like you better. And _his_ significant other doesn't have an advanced degree in obstetrics, while yours does."

Richard laughed. "True enough," he agreed. "She's going to be so happy for you, you know."

"I know. And when we're ready, we'll have _you_ tell her."

"It's a deal," Richard replied, a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

Charles took the long way home, following the coastline for a bit before pulling over to a scenic rest area.

"Charles?"

"We have two more hours of freedom," he laughed. "Beryl promised to feed the kids _and_ have Bill watch them at their place until we pick them up. She said it'd be better for them, too, because it means she can get through the lunch rush without Ivy in her hair."

"I'm famished," Elsie admitted. "I don't suppose you packed a lunch away in here somewhere?"

Charles backed the car into a parking spot. He turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt. "As a matter of fact," he said, reaching over and tapping her on the nose, "I did."

Elsie stayed put as Charles got out of the car and took something out of the trunk. She took a quick moment to text Beryl a thank you, and then Charles was opening her door.

"This way, Ms. Hughes," he rumbled, a smile on his face as he reached for her hand.

"Alright," she said, her confusion mixed with joy at his apparent giddiness. "What's this all about?"

He led her to the small clearing behind where he'd parked the car. She spotted a basket, which she presumed contained their lunch, and - beside it - a soft blanket. The spot overlooked the sea yet was secluded enough that they were virtually hidden away.

"How did you know about this spot?" Elsie asked incredulously. "No one ever drives up here; it's too far out of the way for anything."

"A little birdie told me," he chuckled.

"A little red-headed birdie, I'm guessing!"

"Actually," he said, spreading the blanket with her and then holding her hand and easing her down until she was sitting comfortably, "it was _Bill."_

"Bill. _Bill Mason_ told you about this place?"

Charles nodded as he sat beside her. "Evidently, he used to bring Beryl here all the time when William was just a baby. Said they'd eat and then he'd watch them both fall asleep to the sound of the waves."

"I never knew that," Elsie whispered, awestruck. "Huh."

Charles placed the basket between them as Elsie looked out over the water. He unpacked two sandwiches, some cut veggies, a bowl of fruit, and two wine glasses.

"Wine glasses?" Elsie asked.

"Have no fear," he said, withdrawing a bottle. "Sparkling cider - no alcohol."

"I should have known." She unwrapped their sandwiches and pulled out napkins for them while Charles opened the bottle and poured them each a glass of the bubbly cider.

"A toast," he said, handing her a glass. "To my beautiful Elsie, who - just when I thought my happiness could grow no greater - showed me I was wrong. I love you, darling."

She blinked away her tears and bit her lip as she clinked their glasses together, nodding her thanks. Words were unnecessary, which was a very good thing as she couldn't have formulated any at the moment anyhow.

As they ate, they chatted about the wedding, about things Elsie had meant to take care of that would now be on Charles's list instead. They discussed what types of cake they'd be trying at Beryl's the next day, and which one each expected to prefer.

When the meal was finished, Charles packed up the basket and brought it to the car, returning swiftly with a book in his hand.

"You'll think me foolish," he said sheepishly, "but as we have time …"

He sat behind Elsie and put his legs on either side of her body, encouraging her to sit back against his chest, and he opened the book.

"Shakespeare - now why doesn't that surprise me?" she teased him, placing a kiss to his jaw.

"Well, if Stephen King wrote poetry, I don't think the sentiment would be the same," he replied wryly. "Now, you sit back while I read."

She did as he asked, allowing herself to relax completely as she heard _and_ felt his deep, soothing voice, her gaze resting upon the waves in the sea.

"I could get used to this, you know," she murmured when he'd finished the first sonnet.

He tilted his face down to kiss the top of her head. "Good. Because it looks like we've got quite a bit of down time coming our way."

She smiled and snuggled back even closer to him.

"Perfect."

* * *

 _ **Thursday, July 30, 2015 - two days until the wedding**_

The remainder of the days leading up to the wedding had, indeed, been busy. Elsie was trying her best to stay calm and to limit her activity, but she worried that it wouldn't be enough. It was a catch-22, she knew: she worried about the pregnancy, about her body betraying her once again, and the worry was producing the very stress she did _not_ need at that time.

Edith had been by a few times to visit, having brought Marigold over to see Daisy and to spend some time on the farm. The girls would swim in the pond with Tommy on the hotter days, with Max joining them on occasion. Charles had set up a trampoline in one corner of the yard for them, and Tommy and Jimmy could often be seen _under_ it, talking about goodness knew what. All in all, Elsie mused, the farm was an excellent place to be raising children, and it made her a bit melancholy when she remembered that putting an addition onto the house just wasn't feasible. Still, they had a plan, as there was no way she'd even have considered selling anyhow. Purchasing the property and building her business had been her main achievement after moving to the States, and she'd never let it go.

 _No,_ she thought as she sat in the shade and watched the kids swim, _but Anna and John will be comfortable here. If they accept, that is._ She knew they would, though. They'd been looking for a place to live, and with the amount of time they spent working for Elsie anyhow, it would be perfect. It was close enough to the Tree Farm that John and Anna could travel back and forth just as easily as they were managing now, and the fact was that - as Miss Stephanie had discovered only recently - there weren't very many flats for rent in Misty Cove.

Elsie watched as Tommy swam through the water, laughing uproariously at something Daisy had just said. It was just the two kids today, no Marigold or Jimmy, as Elsie had wanted some quiet family time before the wedding. Charles had gone to get a pizza; as soon as he returned, they enjoyed it out on the patio before having the children take showers so that they could tuck in for a family movie night.

Daisy had decided to snuggle with Charlie on the couch, leaving Elsie to the chair and Tommy sprawled out on the floor with Max.

Charles chuckled suddenly, and Elsie and Tommy turned to look at him.

"What?" Tommy asked.

"I was just thinking, this is how summer holidays are _supposed_ to be," Charles said. "Swimming, play, movies, and family time. Nothing better in my book."

"I'm going to miss you," Daisy said suddenly. "When you're gone on your honeymoon."

"We'll call every day," Elsie promised. "You can Skype us, even," she added with a wink in Daisy's direction. But then a thought occurred to her and she added, "Charlie, we _will_ have phone and internet service, correct?"

"Do you honestly think I'd whisk you away to a place devoid of contact with the outside world?" he asked incredulously. "Of course we will - all the comforts of home, with none of the work."

"You'll have Anna and John staying here with you, and Auntie Cora and Uncle Robert will be around for the week as well," Charles reminded the kids. "You can come and go as you please, with their permission, between the farm, Aunt Edith's, and Aunt Mary's place. We'll be back before you know it."

"I can stay at Jimmy's sometimes, right?"

"If it's okay with his Mum, then yes," Charles said, and Tommy nodded. Neither adult mentioned that Tommy had already asked them this three times, and they'd given the same answer each time. It seemed he needed a bit more reassurance that _his_ concerns were being remembered, and neither Elsie nor Charles could blame him; after all, they'd reasoned, he really doesn't know _any_ of the adults they'd mentioned all that well, except perhaps for Mary and Anna.

 _Two days until the wedding,_ Elsie thought as they got back to the movie. _And it seems like a formality._ She casually rested her hand on her belly as she looked lovingly at her family.

 _I already have all I_ _ **need**_ _right here._

 _The 'party,'_ as Charles kept calling the wedding, _is just the icing on the cake._

* * *

 _ **Friday, July 31, 2015 - the day before the wedding**_

"Elsie!" Charles yelled up the basement stairs. "I'm heading out to pick up Robert and get the suits!"

"Don't forget to buy the candles!" she called back.

"A box of tapers and the tealight for the top of the other, yes?" he called up, and she appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Yes," she said, smiling. "And if you bring me something chocolate, I'll love you forever."

He dashed up the stairs for a kiss, grazing his knuckles across her abdomen as their lips met.

"Done," he whispered before disappearing back downstairs and to his car.

Elsie sighed happily and turned back toward the kitchen, shaking her head at the mess that the kids were making.

"Are you almost finished?" she asked, and Daisy nodded.

"One more dozen to go," she said.

Elsie turned to where Tommy was sitting at the dining room table, muttering under his breath (and swearing, Elsie was sure) at the little plastic bag he was attempting to tie shut.

"This wasn't _my_ idea," he grumbled, as though he could hear her thoughts. "Stupid little things won't tie …"

Elsie poured herself a cup of tea and sat beside him, putting her hand out for the bag. He handed it over gratefully, and she tied the ribbon into a perfect bow.

"Cookie favors weren't _my_ idea, either," she said quietly. "But she's having a wonderful time, and they're something that won't go to waste or be thrown out."

"No, the _cookies_ are a great idea," Tommy clarified. "It's having me tie them all up that wasn't."

"Well," Elsie reasoned, "you're meticulous - good with your hands. You wanted to help …"

"I _do_ want to help, but my bows are a mess. How about I bag and you tie? There are only about two dozen left."

Elsie laughed. "We only have forty or so people _coming_ to the wedding!"

It was Tommy's turn to smile. "Exactly."

Elsie rolled her eyes and put her hand out.

"Give me a bag …"

* * *

Charles arrived home two hours later. He walked in to a table full of wedding favors, with Elsie napping on the couch and Tommy and Daisy playing a board game on the floor in the Daisy's room.

"Well, hello there," Charles greeted them. "Elsie was tired, I gather?"

"Yeah, she just kind of passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow," Tommy said, rolling the dice. "Yes!" He grabbed his pawn and passed Daisy on the board, and Charles saw her pout.

"I'll leave you to it," he said. "Tommy, your suit's hanging in your room."

"Great - thanks," Tommy said.

Charles shook his head and made his way to the bedroom with his own suit, hanging it on the hook behind the door where Elsie had placed Daisy's dress. He checked that the color of the pocket square matched the dress - which, of course, it did - and headed off to the barn.

Elsie woke half an hour later, amazed that she'd fallen asleep so suddenly. She opened her eyes and sat up slowly, glancing over to verify that the kids had cleaned the kitchen. She didn't hear them moving about, and she assumed they were in the barn with Charles. A glance at her watch confirmed that it was Daisy's riding time.

"Good morning," Tommy said wryly from his spot down on the sun porch. "Sleep well?"

"Like the dead," Elsie said, stretching as she walked. "Thanks for cleaning up the kitchen. Daisy outside with her father?"

Tommy nodded, closing his book and tossing it on the table in front of him. "Yeah. Elsie, you okay?"

She looked at him warily, wondering … _Surely not._ "I'm fine," she said. "Why?"

Tommy just tilted his head, looking at her as though he were trying to figure something out. "I don't know. You seem … ah, it's probably just the wedding. Are you nervous?"

Elsie plopped down next to him on the love seat and propped her feet up on the table; Tommy tucked his underneath his legs.

"No," she said, smiling. "Not at all. It seems like a formality, really. We're already a family; nothing will be too terribly different after the ceremony happens."

"But it _will_ be different," Tommy insisted. "We're doing the candles."

Elsie looked at him fondly. "Yeah, we are," she said, reaching out and patting his hand where it sat on the cushion. "Thank you for that - for being willing to lead that. It … well, it _means_ more, coming from you, I think. At least, in my mind it does."

"You're welcome. Thanks for wanting me to be a part of it," Tommy said. "And Daisy's ready for her bit, too - we practiced earlier."

He watched as Elsie bit down on her lip - a habit, he'd noticed, that she had when she was either worried or thinking hard about something.

"What?"

"I just never thought she'd get to this point," Elsie said honestly. "Speaking in public, I mean."

"Yeah, well, it's just family, really," Tommy reasoned. "So that makes it better."

Elsie looked over and smiled at him again. "It _is_ family. Ours - and, now, yours."

Tommy smiled back at her and nodded.

"I never said thank you, you know," he whispered after a moment.

"I'm sure you have," Elsie said. "And there's no _need_ to thank us for anything."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then Tommy spoke again.

"You know, Charles told me that he and I are a lot alike. But I think I'm more like you."

She looked at him curiously. "Really? Why?"

"Well," he explained, "I feel like you understand me. That you get how my mind works. You seem to know what I'm thinking a lot, but you leave me alone. Which is good - I'm not complaining," he said.

"That's true," Elsie replied. "I _do_ understand you in many ways. I'm proud of you, you know."

"Why?"

"Because of how far _you've_ come this past year, Tommy. It's not just Daisy who seems different. You used to come to school so angry all the time - shut up inside of your head, closed off from the world. And I understood that," she said quickly, not wanting him to think she was being critical. "But you really held up your end of the bargain here - working hard, and staying out of trouble at school, too. You've done everything I asked."

"You didn't expect I would," he said with a smirk.

"I didn't," she admitted. "Oh, I knew you'd work here. You had too much pent up frustration not to. But your behavior at school … well, I was impressed," she said. "And proud, because I felt like I had been responsible for that."

"You're a lot like my Mum," Tommy said to her.

Elsie watched him as he picked at the tie of his shoe, wrestling with the emotions he was always trying to keep in check. "How's that?" she asked quietly.

"You see good things in me when other people don't," he said. "Charles, too. It's … weird."

"You'll get used to it," she told him. "Every day will be a bit easier."

She got up from the love seat and stretched again. "Want to help me with an early dinner?" she asked. "Burgers on the grill - nice and easy - and then Charles and I have an errand to run."

"Sure," he said, rising and taking his book with him as they made their way up to the dining room. "What time are you leaving for Aunt Mary's?"

The 'aunt' threw her for a second, and she smiled _._ "I'll get dropped off there on the way home," she replied, "and Mary will come to get Daisy. I do hope Daisy and I can _sleep_ tonight. Do you gentlemen have plans?"

Tommy smirked. "Actually, we do," he said, nodding.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Robert's coming over with Bertie and Bill Mason."

"Really?"

He nodded again. "Yeah - we're teaching Charles how to play poker."

Daisy and Charles heard Elsie's laughter all the way out in the barn.

* * *

"I can't believe he squeezed us in at five," Charles marveled as he pulled into the parking lot at Richard's office. "It seems almost perfect, doing this now. Today."

"I'm glad no one else is around, too," Elsie admitted. "Beryl will meet us here in half an hour and take me to Mary's, and then that's it until tomorrow. I'll miss you."

They got out of the car, but Charles snaked his arm around Elsie's waist and pulled her in for a deep kiss before she could reach for the office door.

"I love you," he whispered quietly.

"I love you, too," she replied. "More than anyone ever has."

He smiled sweetly at her, his eyebrows raised. "I remember."

Richard greeted them in the lobby, having sent the receptionist home after the last patient had left.

"This one's off the books," he joked. "Just see the nurse for your blood draw and meet me in the office."

Elsie did as requested, and ten minutes later she was lying back on the examination table. Her hands were trembling.

"Sh," Charles whispered into her ear. "It's going to be just fine."

"It may be too early," Richard said, "but we'll give it a shot. Some babies are quiet until almost ten weeks, and we figure you're about eight, give or take, so there's no guarantee. You know that it wouldn't mean something was wrong if we can't get an audible heartbeat today."

"I do," Elsie nodded.

Richard had her pull her blouse up, and she moved the waistband of her pants down a bit.

"Okay, here we go," he said, applying a small amount of warmed gel to the tip of the Doppler wand. He set it on her abdomen and moved it around a bit.

For about a minute or so, all they heard was static. But then Richard drew in a sharp breath and adjusted the wand, pressing a bit more firmly.

"There," he breathed, and the insistent sound of a tiny heartbeat echoed throughout the room.

Elise's jaw dropped open, and she couldn't find any words. After a moment, she looked over at Charles, who had tears coming down his face.

He looked down at her. "That's our baby, love. Our beautiful, miraculous, _strong_ baby."

"It _is_ a rather strong heartbeat," Richard said encouragingly. He smiled at them both, then focused on Elsie. "I'd say this baby is doing a very good job so far. Things are going as I'd expect with any pregnancy. Keep resting as much as you can, and I'll get you back in about a week after you get back from your honeymoon," he told her.

"I'm not counting on anything," Elsie admitted, "but this is definitely encouraging."

"I understand," Richard said quietly.

They listened for another minute, with Richard moving the wand around a bit to judge the strength of the heartbeat they were hearing.

"It'll be louder next time," he told them. "Alright, here you are." He handed Elsie a towel and she cleaned off her abdomen and readjusted her clothes.

Charles helped her up and drew her into his arms.

"Perfect job, Mama," he whispered into her ear.

Elsie pulled away from him after a moment and gave Richard a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said. "And we'll see you tomorrow!"

"I can't wait," he said, smiling.

* * *

"Woo-hoo!" Beryl shouted, pulling Elsie into Mary's house. "We're here!"

"Everything's set out in the dining room," Mary called from the kitchen. "You can drop your things in Uncle Charlie's room, Elsie."

Elsie looked at Beryl and raised her eyebrows. "She's cooking?" she mouthed, and Beryl nodded, her hands up in front of her as if to say, "I know, I know! But _you_ try to argue with her!"

Elsie giggled as she headed into the bedroom with her bag. She had brought very little with her, really, as the dress had been stored at Mary's since Elsie and Edith had picked it up last week. Edith had gushed over the beauty of it, and she and Madge (who had actually been present at the counter this time around) seemed to have gotten along quite well. Daisy's dress had been brought over earlier, along with Becky's, when Mary had picked Daisy up at the farm.

Elsie had been nervous about having a bruise on the inside of her elbow that would be visible to all and sundry, but when she checked the spot once again she smiled; the lab tech had been very skilled and she could see only the faintest pinprick left behind on her skin. She deposited her overnight bag on the chair in the corner and walked slowly around the bed, sitting on it and gazing out the window. Her mind was miles away, back to the first time she'd been here, in this bed, and she shook her head at how _long_ ago it seemed.

 _Our first date,_ she remembered, smiling. _Dinner at the Library Restaurant, then drinks, and dancing … that red dress that he loves so much … sunrise …_

"Ellie?"

Elsie whipped around and smiled brightly. "Becky! Darling, come here," she said, opening her arms and waiting for Becky to join her on the bed.

"Bill just dropped me off," Becky explained unnecessarily. "Am I sleeping in here with you tonight?"

"No, you'll share with Daisy, if that's alright," Elsie explained.

"Oh, good! We'll have fun!"

"You'll have to _sleep,_ too," Elsie advised.

"I know." Becky got up and fetched her bag from the hallway, then returned. "I have something for you, Ellie. Something special."

Elsie furrowed her brow. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Becky said, digging through the bag until she found what she wanted. "Here," she said, holding her fist out, something clutched inside that Elsie couldn't see.

Elsie put her hands out, curious. Becky placed her fist over them and opened it, and Elsie gasped at what landed in her palm.

"Becky," she whispered, "this is your best bracelet! It was Mam's ..."

"I know. I want you to wear it tomorrow. Bring it with you on your trip, and then you can bring it back to me."

"I couldn't possibly," Elsie protested, but Becky shushed her.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue," Becky recited from memory. "And a sixpence for your shoe. Charlie has that," she giggled. "But this is your something old _and_ something borrowed."

"Alright, then," Elsie said. "And I have the something blue," she reminded her sister.

Becky was puzzled for a moment, then looked at her sister and laughed.

"Your _eyes_ are blue! And Charlie _loves_ them," she said gleefully. "So that leaves …"

"Something new," Elsie said softly. "And I've got that covered, so don't you worry."

"Of course, your dress is new," Becky said.

"Yes," Elsie said after a moment, not bothering to correct Becky's misinterpretation.

 _That's right,_ she thought. _That's new, too._

Elsie helped her sister to unpack her things, and double-checked that both Becky's and Daisy's dresses and shoes were still unharmed. When Mary called out that dinner was ready, Becky and Daisy raced to the dining room, and Elsie managed to tuck a little gift under each of their pillows: a gold necklace with a single, dark amber, teardrop pendant that would match the shade of the dresses perfectly.

"There you are," Beryl said as Elsie came into the dining room.

"Just had one more detail to tie up," Elsie replied, taking her seat.

Dinnertime chatter was led by Becky and Beryl, who were happily nattering on about everything that would be happening in the morning. Beryl reviewed the timeline with everyone, making sure the ladies were all on the same page.

"Bill will arrive with William and Ivy around noon, and they'll set up the chairs outside," she said. "The weather is going to be gorgeous - even the wind will behave - and so there shouldn't be a problem there. I'll be free to meet with the caterers when they arrive, and Anna and John are bringing the programs - they'll be here at four."

"And we'll start getting ready then," Daisy said, nodding, "just like Elsie said. And then, at five, you and Papa are getting _married!"_

Daisy's glee was infectious, and Elsie couldn't help but laugh.

"The tables are already set up in the main parlour," Mary added. "I've had all the furniture except the piano moved out, and everything fit really well. We'll open the sliding door to the porch, where the dancing will happen. I'll meet with the florist at two, and I'll see to it that everything ends up where we discussed last week." She smiled at Elsie, who smiled and nodded in return, a silent acknowledgement of the bond they'd forged since the horror of the fire. Mary was a new person, Elsie mused … but, then again, so was Elsie.

After dinner and dessert - and three rounds of Scattergories (at Daisy's insistence) - Elsie was completely knackered. She thanked everyone one last time and headed off to get ready for bed.

As she brushed out her hair, Elsie looked in the mirror. She noticed the strands of grey in her hair, and the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, but they did nothing to detract from the joy she felt knowing that she was carrying Charlie's baby, that she was going to marry him in less than twenty-four hours.

 _Oh, my darling baby,_ she thought. _Tomorrow's the big_ _day!_

She bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, then gave up and simply let them pour over. She wasn't even sure what she was crying _for;_ surely there was joy at the thought of being Charles's wife, and for the new life they'd created, but she figured there was also some trepidation for Daisy and Tommy, and how they'd take the news of the baby. She wondered how Becky would handle it all, and she worried (as all brides do) that something would go horribly wrong with the ceremony. She cried at the thought of leaving her home at some point in the next year, but then cried happy tears as she contemplated finding a new, perfect place for her and Charles to raise their blended family.

She opened the bedroom window to the cool night air and then donned her nightgown and climbed into the bed. She pulled the sheet up under her chin, realizing she wasn't used to sleeping alone and discovering that, after years of doing just that, she now hated the feeling. She smoothed out the sheet a bit, then reached over and grabbed her phone from the nightstand.

 _Hey there,_ she texted Charles.

 _Hey, beautiful,_ he replied. _You in bed?_

 _I am. Feeling lonely. Miss you. Can't wait for tomorrow._

 _Neither can I. But you're not alone, you know. I'm sort of there with you. x_

Her mouth widened into a huge grin as she realized what he meant, and she trailed her fingers over her abdomen.

 _That's true - you are._ She hit "send," then added, _How was poker?_ followed by a laughing emoji.

 _Ha bloody ha,_ he replied. _I'll have you know, I beat them all!_

 _Good for you, love. Are you all settled in now?_

 _We are,_ he replied. _And you should be, too. Sleep well, Ms. Hughes._

Elsie smiled, and her heart fluttered as she realized that the next time she was climbing into bed, she'd be 'Mrs. Carson' instead.

 _I will. You, too. xx_

She shut off the phone and plugged in her charger, then rolled over onto her back. She rested her hands on her belly; with visions of tomorrow's beachfront wedding playing through her mind, she softly hummed a lullaby to her baby as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 **Please drop me a little review if you are willing. :)**

 ***Vitamins: true story - mine. Prenatals were horrific, but a couple of Fred and Barney chewables and I was good to go!**


	49. Flames in the Darkness

**A/N: Here we are! MAHOOSIVE chapter, and I apologize if those aren't your thing. I promise to get back to normal-sized ones soon, beginning with chapter 50.**

 **Shout-out to brenna-louise for her fab beta work, and a little fist bump to Hogwarts Duo for letting me run a few things by her. I'd also be remiss in not thanking OJBF3 for her gentle tapping.**

 **AMAZING artwork for this can be seen on my tumblr page - which you can find by googling "chelsiesouloftheabbey." THANK YOU to dameofdownstairs - they are both so lovely! xx**

 **Song for the actual wedding is on my Spotify for "After the Fall" (same username there, too) and the readings are all based on things I found online and also on my own experience planning one. ;)**

 **Please take a moment to leave a review and let me know what you think.**

 **Let's roll!**

 **CSotA**

 **PS: Grab a hankie. xx**

* * *

 _ **Saturday, August 1, 2015**_

 _ **Wedding Day**_

Tommy rolled over and gazed out the window. The sun had woken him today, pouring in through the curtains that he'd forgotten to pull closed before going to sleep. He stayed in bed for a few more minutes as he listened to the sounds of the house - quieter today, of course, with Elsie and Daisy staying at Aunt Mary's.

Max's nails clicked across the floor and Tommy moved his own legs to the side of his bed. Max hopped up, tail wagging, and Tommy pulled the dog into his lap, hugging him tightly and talking to him. Max - ever the good listener - stared into Tommy's face with his deep brown eyes, as though he truly understood all of Tommy's concerns and fears.

Max eventually hopped down, though, and Tommy got out of bed and got dressed. He didn't bother showering yet, knowing he'd have plenty of time for that before the wedding. He tossed his blanket up in the general vicinity of the pillow and then made his way into the kitchen, where Charles was seated in his customary chair at the dining room table.

"Good morning," Charles said. His deep voice rumbled across the empty space, but there was a kindness in it that Tommy always appreciated.

"Morning," Tommy mumbled, grabbing cereal, milk, a bowl, and a spoon from the kitchen. He brought them to the table and sat, then poured himself some tea from the pot Charles had already prepared. He counted on that tea being there; Elsie had made him some when he'd first started coming by the farm and he'd been shocked to realize he really liked it - fragrant, soothing, something about it that he couldn't really explain. _Homey,_ he thought.

"We'll head out whenever you're ready," Charles told him.

"Horses are done?" Tommy asked around a mouthful of cereal, and Charles nodded.

"Yes, and the chickens are out. It's a gorgeous day," he said gratefully.

"Yeah, thank goodness. Wouldn't want to have it rain on the wedding - especially not on the beach."

Charles looked distracted for a moment, and Tommy shot him a quizzical look.

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Charles said, waving his hand at the boy. "Just … I was remembering that it poured buckets the day I married Daisy's Mum. Everyone said that was supposed to be good luck. I think I rather prefer the sun shining down on us today."

Tommy nodded, unsure of what to say. But one thing he did know, he reminded himself silently, was that if anyone was meant to have a happy marriage, it was Elsie and Charles.

When he finished his breakfast, Tommy brought his dishes into the kitchen and then headed to brush his teeth; ten minutes later, he and Charles were in the Volvo and driving away from the farm.

"Can we stop there?" Tommy asked at one point, indicating a roadside stand.

"Of course," Charles replied.

They made their purchase and got back on their way, and both Charles and Tommy spent the remainder of the short ride in silence. Tommy was trying to focus on the rest of the day ahead, on the happiness he had felt a couple of weeks ago when he, Elsie, Charles, and Daisy had visited with the social worker who'd come by the house to begin the formal adoption proceedings.

" _It's been a very short time," the man had cautioned. "Are you sure?"_

 _Elsie had smiled at Tommy, an amused glint in her eye, speaking silently to him: He thinks we're not sure? That we haven't discussed this properly, perhaps?_

" _We're sure," Tommy had replied, and Elsie had given a slight nod of approval as Charles was echoing the sentiment._

" _Alright," the man had said. "Well, then, it looks as though we've got work to do." He'd pulled out a stack of paperwork and they'd set to it, doing as much as possible to get things moving ahead for November._

But Tommy couldn't quite grasp that happy, sure feeling now, and as Charles pulled the car up the path and in between the grassy plots, Tommy clutched more tightly at the newly-purchased flowers in his hands.

Charles and Tommy got out of the car, and Charles stayed on his side. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.

Tommy shook his head, his jaw clenched tightly. "Not yet," he whispered.

Charles watched as Tommy made his way to his mother's headstone, the newly-grown grass still thin, the flowers that Elsie and Daisy had helped Tommy to plant blossoming red and pink, their fragrance on the breeze. He saw the boy kneel down and then lean forward to place the flowers they'd picked up on the base of the stone. Charles could just make out the top-most words from where he stood, until the breeze caught Tommy's hair and fluttered it in front of the engraving:

 _Laura M. Barrow_

 _August 25, 1984 ~ April 6, 2015_

 _Beloved Mother_

"Hey, Mum," Tommy whispered, rubbing his fingers over the letters of her name. "How are you? I miss you so much. I'm sorry that we didn't get here last week, but there was a lot going on. I know you're with me, though, all the time. I _feel_ you. I'm glad you're still visiting me when I sleep."

He moved off of his knees to sit on the ground, his legs tucked underneath him. "It's been hard, missing you. There are so many things I wish I could talk to you about. I mean, I can talk to you _here,_ but it's not the same. Still, Elsie's been there. She gets me, I think ... like you used to. It's not the same, but I know you'd have loved her if you'd ever really met and spent time together." He paused, his face scrunched up. "You know, Mum, I wonder ... sometimes ... if Elsie was sent to me because you'd have to leave."

He wiped at his eyes and was quiet for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts, before Charles heard him start to speak again.

"The wedding is today. It's beautiful out, Mum - couldn't be more perfect. It makes me feel like you're smiling down on us, giving your approval for what we're going to do. I worried about that, you know. I've been looking for a sign that you'd be upset, but the more I thought about it, the more I'm sure you'd just be happy."

Charles saw Tommy's back start to shake, and he slowly walked around the car and approached the boy from behind. He knew Tommy had registered his presence and he crouched down beside him, resting his hand on Tommy's shoulder, not saying a word.

Tommy took a deep breath, understanding Charles's quiet way of supporting him: _I'm here for you,_ the gesture said. _You don't have to do this alone._

"It sounds like I'm saying goodbye, Mum," Tommy said roughly, "and _I'm not_. But it'll be different, after today, after the wedding.

"Charles is here with me - can you see him? He's helped me to see that even though I'm becoming part of _their_ family, that I'll still always be _yours._ He says I need a family to take care of me because you can't. And I do. And they take good care of us. Charles and Elsie -" He broke off and looked back at Charles, who just smiled encouragingly at him. "- they're good parents. They watch out for us, and they make sure I don't get into trouble. And I can talk to them, like I can talk to you. And they're … well … they're kind to us. I think I'm more used to that now.

"I guess that's it, Mum. I just wanted to come and see you and talk to you about it all. I was scared, thought maybe you'd be sad today, sad that I have this new family now. But now that I say it all out loud to you, I think you're not. You loved me so much, and I know you'd want me to be taken care of."

His emotions shattered then, both in sadness at the despair of missing Laura, his grief still so raw when he let it surface like this, and also in relief for the realization that, from today, he truly did have a new family that was committing itself to finish the job that Laura Barrow had begun: raising him, helping him grow and become a good man, despite all that life had been throwing his way.

He stood up after a while, making his way back to the car. Charles said nothing the entire way home, for which Tommy was grateful. No words were needed, really - both man and boy knew exactly where they stood: on sure, solid ground, in the kindest and most loving of families, at last.

* * *

"Da, da, da-da. Da, da, da-da!" Daisy sang, practically squealing as she burst into Elsie's room and leapt onto the bed.

"Mmph," Elsie mumbled, yawning into the pillow she'd been clutching.

After drifting off to sleep with dreams of her baby floating through her mind, Elsie had woken suddenly at around eleven. She'd then had a ridiculously hard time falling _back_ to sleep; at about half past two, she'd gotten up and padded down to the kitchen for some warm milk laced with vanilla - an old trick of her mother's from years ago, when Elsie had just been a wee lass on the farm. It wasn't brandy, though, which she _would_ have gone for normally, and it didn't work as well as it had when she was a child; she reckoned she'd finally fallen asleep again at about three.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Just gone seven," Daisy said. "Should I let you sleep some more?" Just as she asked, she let out a huge yawn of her own.

"We don't have anything to do until ten," Elsie stated. "So, yes."

"May I stay?" Daisy asked quietly, already snuggling down next to Elsie and commandeering the extra pillow.

"Of course," Elsie murmured, placing a kiss to Daisy's head. She gently rolled onto her back, cursing herself for having slept on her side, but her back seemed fine from what she could tell. She extended her arm toward her girl, and smiled as Daisy tucked herself in.

Two minutes later, both were fast asleep.

* * *

When Beryl came in with tea a couple of hours later, Elsie and Daisy were sitting up against the headboard, chatting away.

"Sorry if I'm interrupting," Beryl said kindly, "but you'll have to get out of bed soon. It's your wedding day, and it _might_ be a good idea to be somewhat prepared."

"My wedding day," Elsie said, shaking her head. "There was a time when I never thought I'd utter _those_ words again!"

Beryl deposited the tray on the bureau and sat on the corner of the bed. "I know, love," she said. "But good things come to those who wait."

Elsie hugged Daisy to her side and squeezed her tightly. "The _best_ things," she said, smiling brightly at Daisy, who nodded in return.

Beryl got up to pour a cup of tea for Elsie. "Daisy," she said, "why don't you head on out to the kitchen? Your Aunties are putting some last-minute touches on things and they've asked for your help. There are pancakes in the warmer of the oven, too, so you can eat breakfast while you all chat."

"Sure," Daisy said, climbing off the bed. But she turned swiftly back to Elsie and asked, "Nails at one?"

Elsie smiled and nodded. "Nails at one," she confirmed. "You did remember to bring the polish, didn't you?"

"Oh, yes," Daisy confirmed. "It's sitting on the nightstand in our room."

Elsie and Beryl watched as Daisy flitted out of the room, and Beryl closed the door behind her before returning to Elsie's side, tea in hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. "Did you sleep at all? I heard you walking about at all hours."

"Oh, I'm sorry if I kept the rest of you up," Elsie apologized, but Beryl shook her head.

"No, don't worry. You know I'm up a million times anyhow, and I didn't hear anyone else. But you're alright, other than the obvious pre-wedding jitters?"

Elsie took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, I think I am," she smiled. "I thought it would be harder spending last night apart, and I actually got more sleep than I _expected_ to. Still, though … not enough."

"Well, it seems that having a visitor this morning helped you catch a couple of more hours," Beryl replied fondly.

"Too true. And I did chat with Charlie before bed last night. But to answer your original question, I'm feeling alright. No nausea; that seems to be better if I wait a bit before eating in the morning. Other than the overwhelming fatigue, which should only last a few more weeks, I'm doing fine."

"Well, you'll have plenty of time to rest over the next week," Beryl said. "You know … when you're not doing _other_ honeymoon things …"

Elsie swatted at Beryl's leg, but her friend avoided it, cackling good-naturedly in the process.

"Oh, come on now," Beryl laughed. "You have to be _careful;_ you don't have to _abstain."_

"Thank God," Elsie breathed, blushing. "Oh, do you know if Violet arrived?"

"Well, _that_ puts a damper on the sex conversation," Beryl quipped. "And I think that she got in last night. I'm surprised Charles didn't tell you."

"Oh, Isobel was picking her up, so I'm not sure if he knew. But she's the last of the bunch. To tell the truth, I love Violet, but I'm _so_ glad she hasn't been here these last weeks."

"Worried she'd have interfered with the planning?" Beryl asked, a knowing look about her.

But Elsie surprised her. "No," she said. "Actually, I think she'd have left that alone. But one thing I am fairly certain of: by the time this day is over, she'll have guessed that I'm pregnant."

"What? _How?"_

Elsie just chuckled. "Just a feeling I have," she said. "Violet's … perceptive. She'll know something's up for sure. I only hope I can pass it off as wedding nerves."

* * *

Elsie finally made it into the shower at eleven o'clock. She felt a bit off-kilter with the hour, being so used to rising with the sun regardless of the day; still, she knew she'd need her rest as the day progressed, and that a nap would be out of the question. And while she and Charles wouldn't be leaving for their honeymoon until the morning, she anticipated - _hoped for,_ if she was honest - a rather late night, indeed.

As she was drying off, Elsie heard Becky moving about in the bedroom, and she poked her head out of the en-suite to greet her very excited sister.

"Ellie! I just found my _necklace._ Oh, it's so pretty. I wanted to give you a hug!"

Elsie laughed. "Let me finish up in here and I'll be right out."

"Okay."

Elsie combed out her hair and donned the luxurious robe Mary had left for her. _It's not Charles's,_ she thought with a smirk, remembering that first night once again, _but it'll do._

She joined Becky over by the window and, true to her promise, Becky wrapped her in a huge hug.

"I love you, Ellie," she whispered. "And I'm so excited for today."

"Me too, sweetheart." Elsie leaned back and cupped Becky's cheek, placing a kiss on the opposite one. "And I'm glad you're happy. I'm glad that you love Charlie, and I'm glad that he loves you."

Becky nodded, fully understanding what Elsie was trying to tell her.

"I do love him," Becky whispered. "He's different, and I know he loves _you_ so much. He looks at you like … like you're his favorite person in the world. Like he's never loved _anyone_ the way he loves you."

Elsie bit down on her lip, tears coming to her eyes _again._ She brushed at them and nodded. "You're right, Becky. He does. We're pretty lucky, aren't we?"

"We are, Ellie. We _are."_

* * *

The three-person stylist team that Beryl had hired showed up promptly at one o'clock. Bill, William, and Ivy had just finished setting up the chairs on the beach, and they were currently killing time watching a movie in the bedroom where Beryl had spent the night. Elsie could hear their laughter coming down the hall, and it made her feel comfortable - _safe,_ she thought - and at ease with the idea of being surrounded by all of her closest friends and family on her wedding day.

Daisy, Elsie, and Becky were seated around the dining room table, on which one of the stylists had placed a sheet of clear plastic. All three ladies had their nails done simultaneously, marveling at how fast the work was done. Neither Daisy nor Becky had ever had their nails done before, and there was a fair amount of giggling at the tickling sensations throughout the experience. But, when all was said and done, each woman had lacquer that matched her dress perfectly: a dark, rust-colored amber for Becky and Daisy, and a pale, champagne color for Elsie, with just a bit of sparkle to both.

As soon as the nails were done, work on the ladies' hair began.

"You step into your dresses, correct?" one of the stylists asked, and Elsie nodded. "Good; just checking. And the wedding is at five?"

They nattered on a bit about the plans as each of the ladies was brushed, braided, pinned, and spritzed with hairspray. Elsie had chosen a rather intricate style, something rather unlike her usual french twist or ponytail: her hair was braided into a six-strand braid, with a string of pearls woven through it. It was all then twisted up and pinned, in a style that would withstand the gentle beach breeze as well as a bit of dancing.

"The key pin is here," Elsie's stylist whispered in her ear, making sure Daisy didn't hear. "So when your hubby is taking it down tonight, you just show him that and he'll be able to follow the rest."

Elsie flushed and turned to the man. "You're clearly a friend of Beryl's," she laughed.

Make-up was done last, and Daisy even managed to convince Elsie to allow a bit of shadow and gloss - _"To match Auntie,"_ she'd said, pointing at Becky. Elsie had fought the urge to roll her eyes, but had agreed rather quickly. It was, after all, a special day.

Beryl brought tea and some small sandwiches to them at around three, shooing Elsie, Daisy, and Becky back to the room where Elsie had spent the night.

"No sense being in the way," she'd said sensibly. "You'd only stress out, and we can't have that." She pointed at the sandwich tray. "Be sure you eat at least two of those a piece; dinner won't be until after six and you'll be famished by then."

They all obeyed, eating leisurely and chatting until it was time to get dressed. Elsie walked Daisy and Becky back to their room. On the way back to her own, Elsie stopped and pushed open the door to the piano room slightly, wanting to catch a glimpse of the tables to be sure everything had been done just the way she and Charles had wanted. She gasped rather loudly at the sight before her, stunned at the beauty of it all, which surpassed all of their expectations.

The piano, still sitting in its spot by the window, almost looked like background decoration. There was a long head table set up in front of the fireplace, set for six, and six other tables - round ones - with settings for six apiece. All of their family and closest friends would be in attendance, and the room had an intimate feel despite its size.

Elsie moved in and fingered the table linens; Charles had chosen well, she thought, brushing her fingertip over the creamy brocade. Her eyes traveled past the plates and chargers and wine glasses to-

 _Oh, no,_ she thought suddenly. _The wine … How will I ever manage to refuse to drink it without it looking suspicious?_

But it wasn't the time to worry about _that,_ Elsie chided herself. She examined the centerpieces next, which were larger versions of her own bouquet: champagne-colored roses, greenery, and small, purple thistles tucked here and there, a nod to her native Scotland but with the more personal meaning for her and Charlie. It was something she'd snuck in that he would notice and appreciate … the nod to their family, and to her dedication to protecting it. She rested her hand on her belly absentmindedly, thinking of how she had even _more_ to protect now.

"Is it all alright?"

Elsie whipped around and saw Mary enter the room. "Oh, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry," Mary smiled apologetically. "I was feeling at loose ends and thought I would check everything over one last time before getting changed."

"It's lovely," Elsie gushed. "I can't thank you enough for this - truly. It's lovely and decadent, yet intimate because it's in your home."

She looked over to the piano and smiled, then moved to sit at the bench.

"This place means a lot to us," she murmured, her fingers brushing over the keys.

"Uncle Charlie said you play. Show me?"

Elsie nodded. "Sure - might as well warm it up for later," she said. She flipped through the music that was set out, but it was simply the pieces William would be playing for the processional.

"There are more in the bench," Mary said, but Elsie shook her head. She took a moment to close her eyes and relax, then laid her hands on the keys and played a soft lullaby.

Mary stood in awe, staring at Elsie as she played.

"That was lovely," she breathed when Elsie was finished. "How young were you when you learned?"

Elsie stood up from the bench and made her way over to Mary's side. "Nine," she said. "And I practiced and played whenever I could after that."

"I heard William practicing earlier," Mary said as they walked out of the room. "He's not as good as you."

"Well, that's alright," Elsie said kindly. "He's quite good in his own way, and it's special for me to have him playing today."

"Of course," Mary said, feeling she'd overstepped. "I didn't mean anything cruel by that. It was just meant as a compliment."

Elsie squeezed the younger woman's hand. "And I took it as such, so have no fear," Elsie said. "Okay, then. We have a wedding to get dressed for!"

"See you soon," Mary smiled, and they each went their own way down the corridor to their respective bedrooms.

* * *

Charles was pacing back and forth on the back deck. The band was setting up off to the side and he was trying very hard not to get in their way, but he could see that they were getting annoyed with his anxiety and so he found his way to the kitchen.

That, of course, was no better. Beryl was barking orders at the people bustling about and was virtually tearing the skin off of anyone who went within ten feet of the cake. The kids were hiding out in someone's bedroom with Cora, who was keeping them entertained until it was showtime. Edith and Bertie were huddled in a corner, having arrived early with Edith's parents, and Charles felt himself at sixes and sevens.

Robert came across the groom out on the back deck just as the musicians finished their set-up and nipped into the kitchen for a bite to eat before the ceremony.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Charles smiled sheepishly, and checked the time on his pocket watch. "Four twenty-seven," he announced, snapping it shut and tucking it away again.

"Everything will be _fine,"_ Robert said meaningfully. He reached out and clapped his oldest friend on the shoulder. "In thirty-three minutes, your lovely Elsie will be by your side again, and you'll never have to spend another night apart if that's what you wish."

"Is it that obvious?" Charles shook his head. "It's foolish, Robert; I lived half a century without her in my life. I thought I had everything I needed. Boy, was I ever wrong."

Robert stole a glance back into the house, where he saw Cora standing and chatting with Edith. Cora looked up then, meeting his gaze across the room, and he felt his own heart skip a beat.

"Sometimes you don't realize what you've got until it's _just there,"_ Robert said. "Trust me; I know."

The sound of a car drew their attention to the road.

"The first of your guests have arrived," Robert said, seeing Tom Branson alight from the car in the drive, the silhouette of Sybil visible through the car's windows. "Let's go down and greet them, shall we?"

Charles nodded. "Thank you, my friend. For being here - and for being supportive. You've always been there for me when I've needed you."

Robert nodded; the sentiment went both ways, and both men knew it.

* * *

Elsie turned and Becky zipped up the back of the dress - which, _thank God,_ still fit like a glove.

"Perfect!" Becky announced. "Now, let me have your wrist …"

Elsie held out her hand, and Becky clasped the bracelet on. "Daisy? Do you have the sixpence?"

Daisy joined them by the vanity and held out her hand, which had been clenched in a fist with the sixpence tucked inside since the moment her Papa had given it to her upon his arrival.

"Here," she said, dropping it into Elsie's hand.

Elsie sat and removed her shoe, then tucked the coin inside and put the shoe back on.

"That's everything," she said, standing again. She turned to check her hair in the mirror, and added a touch-up of lip color to both her lips and Daisy's. "Is it time?"

Becky glanced at the clock. "Five minutes," she said. "You're right on time, Ellie. Should we head out?"

Elsie nodded, knowing that by now everyone would be out on the beach - save for William, who was sitting at the piano.

"Wow," William whispered when they popped in to see him. "You all look great!"

"Thanks!" Daisy almost shouted. "Oh, my reading …"

"Is with the minister," Elsie reminded her. "He'll hand it to you when it's time, love."

"Oh, that's right," Daisy murmured. "Okay, then - let's head over to the door!" She almost ran down the hall, and Becky followed close behind.

Elsie took one more look at William and nodded. "Thank you for this, my dear. It means a lot to have you play for us."

"No problem, Elsie," he said. "I'll see you in a little while, I guess. And you'll be Mrs. Carson then."

Elsie's stomach flipped, and she nodded. Gathering up the hem of her dress, she practically glided down to the doorway which would lead her to Charles.

The guests were seated on the beach and a whisper of a breeze was blowing in off the water. Save for a few puffy clouds, the skies were bright and clear, and the gentle waves lapping at the shore seemed to be almost hushed in anticipation.

At precisely five o'clock, the sound of a piano came filtering out of the open window of the house. It was faint, given that the room was not located immediately on the beach front, but with the open windows and doorways the great sound of the Steinway grand traveled perfectly well to everyone's ears. William was playing flawlessly, and Charles grinned like a schoolboy as he turned to face the aisle, with Robert and Tommy standing by his side.

A lump grew in his throat as he saw his beautiful Daisy walking up the aisle toward him. She was smiling a toothy smile, managing by some miracle to keep her steps slow and steady as she'd practiced countless times. She blew him a kiss when she got to where he stood, and he blew one back, causing a soft, "Aww" to be heard amongst the guests.

Becky followed, and she smiled at Charles as she took her place by Daisy's side. Then the music stopped - then changed - and all of the guests rose to their feet.

And suddenly, as though he were in a dream, all Charles could see was Elsie.

She was standing at the beginning of the aisle - alone, which was her choice, although both Tom and John had offered to give her away - and she was virtually glowing. Charles knew that someday he'd look back on this scene and remember it so vividly, and he had to fight the tears that were threatening to well up and burst forth.

He was vaguely aware of some music, and of a colorful array of guests, and of Reverend Travis standing behind him … but his sole focus was on Elsie as she made her way to his side.

When she came to the end of her journey, she passed her bouquet to Becky, and then she and Charles joined hands.

"There you are," he whispered, and he winked at her.

"Always," she replied, winking back.

They turned to face the minister, who offered a welcome and then the following prayer:

"Oh, Holy One of Blessing, we gather here today to witness the coming together of Charles Ernest Carson and Elsie May Hughes in holy matrimony.

"But we are not only here to celebrate the marriage of _two_ people, but _also_ that we may celebrate the formation and affirmation of a _family_. We pray that You guide Charles and Elsie as parents, that they may continue to raise and teach Daisy and Tommy with love and respect, and that You protect this newly-formed family and keep them always in Your care. Amen."

"Amen," replied the guests, and at the signal from the Reverend, they were seated.

"Charles and Elsie have declared their intent to marry before myself and before God. If anyone here has any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, please speak now or forever hold your peace."

After a brief wait, he moved off to the side, so that the altar that stood behind them would be visible to all of the guests, and he addressed everyone once more.

"It was Charles and Elsie's wish that we open their wedding with a special candle-lighting ceremony," Reverend Travis continued. "As I've just described, and as they so lovingly explained to me a few months ago, today isn't just about _them,_ but it is also about their family of four becoming one. A wedding is, after all, about beginnings, and today begins a new phase in the lives of these four marvelous people."

Wordlessly, Daisy and Tommy met one another's gaze and nodded. Daisy moved to the front row of seats and handed her bouquet to Mary. She then met Tommy by the table at the altar, upon which sat a unity candle flanked by four white tapers - two on each side. On either end of that candle holder sat votive holders with a tealight inside of each, the glass of the holders a dark amber which matched Daisy and Becky's dresses. Behind the two votive holders were photographs - on one end, the familiar picture of Laura and Tommy; on the other, a photo of Alice and Daisy. Behind it all stood a clear acrylic screen, placed there to shield the flames from the wind in the hopes that they would remain lit throughout the service.

In the silence that followed - broken only by the sound of the gentle waves and the cry of a far-off gull - Tommy and Daisy removed the two outer tapers from the candle holder. Robert approached them, pulling out a lighter from his suit pocket and carefully lighting the wick on each child's candle.

Everyone watched as Tommy and Daisy cupped their hands near the ends of their candles, shielding the flames from the breeze; they then dipped the tips of the tapers into the votive cups, lighting the candles that rested within. When both were lit, the children blew out the flames on their tapers.

Charles and Elsie joined the children at the altar table, and they silently took up the remaining two tapers from the candle holder, leaving the lone pillar standing in the center.

Reverend Travis handed Tommy a piece of paper, and Tommy nodded his thanks before turning to the guests and addressing them in a loud, clear voice.

"Daisy and I have lit candles to honor our mothers. They aren't with us any longer, but Daisy and I agree that our Mums will always be watching over us, and we feel that they're here with us today. We also agree that we're lucky to have found a new Mum in Elsie. From today forward, we'll be a _new_ family."

Tommy and Daisy relit the tips of their candles by using the flames from the votives. They then turned to the adults - Daisy to Elsie, and Tommy to Charles - and lit those candles with the flames from their own. Then, as a foursome, the family moved over to the center candle.

Tommy clearly read from the paper in his hand, and Daisy, Charles, and Elsie echoed him after each verse:

" _With this candle,_

 _We submit a part of ourselves_

 _To a greater whole._

 _While our own flames will remain lit,_

 _We recognize the creation of a fifth flame,_

 _Representative of our family,_

 _This new entity_

 _To which we four dedicate ourselves today."_

As the last syllable faded away, the four joined their flames to light the candle that sat in the center of them all, and then returned each taper to its respective holder, thankful for how the shield was, indeed, protecting the flames from the slight breeze; they flickered, but remained lit, symbolic to all who were present of the strength that this small family already possessed.

Daisy fidgeted where she stood, knowing that her reading would be coming immediately after the vows. She was very interested to hear the words that Elsie and Charles had chosen for the vows themselves, too. They'd not shared the specific words with anyone; they'd only told the children that the words were very old, and very traditional, a nod to Elsie and Becky's native Scotland.

As her Papa and Elsie turned to face one another, Daisy looked on with wonder. She could see Papa's face so clearly, and he was trying so hard not to cry, but she knew that he was happy, and it made _her_ happy just to witness it. She stole a glance at Tommy and saw him watching Elsie's face in much the same way.

The minister spoke softly, and Daisy knew that was because only Papa and Elsie needed to hear the vows, just enough so that they could repeat them to one another. Elsie's voice sounded out quietly, and Daisy was certain that no one seated in the back could hear her at all. But it didn't matter, because her Papa's voice was, as usual, loud and deep enough for all to hear. As she listened to the words, she realized she thought a few of them strange, but she kept her opinion to herself; it wasn't _her_ wedding, after all …

" _You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself,_

 _But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give._

 _You cannot command me, for I am a free person,_

 _But I shall serve you in those ways you require,_

 _And the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand._

 _I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the night._

 _And the eyes into which I smile in the morning._

 _I pledge to you the first bite from my meat,_

 _And the first drink from my cup._

 _I pledge to you my living and dying, equally in your care,_

 _And tell no strangers our grievances._

 _This is my wedding vow to you._

 _This is a marriage of equals."_

Tommy watched as Robert and Becky moved forward, with shining gold bands clutched between their thumbs and forefingers. At the signal of the minister, they handed the rings to Elsie and Charles, who turned to face each other once again, brilliant smiles on their faces.

Charles tipped the ring to the side and read the engraving, a snippet of the words he'd be speaking in mere seconds to the woman who was moments away from becoming his wife, and he felt a tear fall down his cheek at last.

Elsie had much the same reaction - a moment of stark clarity that they were about to be joined forever as husband and wife. She lovingly reached up and brushed the tear from his face and nodded, and her supportive gesture gave him the strength to utter the words aloud:

"I love you more than anyone ever has, Elsie," Charles said. "With this ring, I thee wed. Please accept it as a token of my unwavering dedication."

Elsie's breath caught as she felt the ring slide over her finger, and she repeated the gesture.

"I love you more than anyone ever has, Charles," she said. "With this ring, I thee wed. Please accept it as a token of my unwavering dedication."

She pushed the ring onto Charles's finger as best she could; his hands were warm in the heat of the late afternoon, and she bit down on her lip to swallow a laugh as she had to take his hand in both of hers to finish the job.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Reverend Travis stated. He smiled at them both in turn. "You may kiss the bride," he added to Charles.

Elsie looked up expectantly, and Charles met her gaze as his hands clutched hers. As they moved ever closer to one another, their hands became trapped over her stomach, much as they had the day before. Just as their lips met in a sweet kiss, Charles brushed the back of his fingers over Elsie's stomach, his silent acknowledgement of the life that was growing inside.

They broke apart and the applause quieted. They both turned to Daisy and nodded, and Reverend Travis handed her a paper from his folder.

"Daisy has requested to deliver the blessing today," he said, and a couple of gasps could be heard from the guests.

Daisy accepted the paper with a smile, and received a smile of encouragement from her Papa. But when she looked out at the crowd, at the sea of over two dozen faces before her, she froze.

For about ten seconds, no one made a sound. Neither Elsie nor Charles were sure what to do, not wanting to draw attention to her discomfort or worsen it in any way.

But they needn't have worried, for it was _Becky_ who saw the solution in an instant.

She moved Elsie's bouquet into her other hand, clutching it with her own smaller version, and reached her now-empty left hand out to Daisy. Daisy grasped onto it tightly and met Becky's glance.

 _I can't,_ Daisy's eyes pleaded.

"You _can,"_ Becky answered aloud. "Just like you practiced with me and with Tommy."

And so it was that, with a little help from her beloved Auntie Becky, Daisy found the strength of her voice at last.

" _In times past, it was believed that the human soul shared characteristics with all things divine._

 _It is this belief which assigned virtues to the cardinal directions; East, South, West and North._

 _It is in this tradition that a blessing is offered in support of this ceremony._

 _Blessed be this union with the gifts of the East:_

 _Communication of the heart, mind, and body,_

 _Fresh beginnings with the rising of each Sun,_

 _The knowledge of the growth found in the sharing of silences._

 _Blessed be this union with the gifts of the South:_

 _Warmth of hearth and home,_

 _The heat of the heart's passion,_

 _The light created by both to illuminate the darkest of times._

 _Blessed be this union with the gifts of the West:_

 _The deep commitments of the lake,_

 _The swift excitement of the river,_

 _The refreshing cleansing of the rain,_

 _The all encompassing passion of the sea._

 _Blessed be this union with the gifts of the North:_

 _Firm foundation on which to build,_

 _Fertility of the fields to enrich your lives,_

 _A stable home to which you may always return."_

"Amen," Reverend Travis said.

"Amen," echoed the guests.

Elsie stifled a sob and reached out to brush her fingers over Daisy's shoulder as the girl returned to her spot by the altar.

Elsie then reached for Charles's hand, expecting Reverend Travis to close the ceremony, so she was surprised when Charles leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Wait."

She furrowed her brow, not understanding … but the sound of William's piano playing wasn't coming from the house, and then she noticed a disturbance in the last row of seats.

"Charles?" she whispered, but he just shook his head, a faint smile on his face.

Andy Parker was walking up to the deck where the band had set up earlier. William met him there, and Elsie realized she'd never seen the boy exit the house. She'd been expecting him to play at the end of the service, though, and then it dawned on her.

"You didn't," she gasped, and Charles - _her_ _ **husband,**_ she realized with a jolt - smiled broadly.

"I may have," he whispered back, giving her a tilt of his head. He then turned to Andy and gave him a bigger nod.

"Mr. Carson asked me a while back to play something for you all today, as a surprise to his beautiful bride," Andy explained. "The song isn't terribly well-known, but it was hand-picked by him. It's my honor to play it for you today, with a little help from young William here, on the keyboard."

William sat behind the keyboard that the band had brought along, and he pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and placed it on the music stand. Andy sat behind the microphone, and began to strum the first chords of the song, with William joining in perfectly with the piano accompaniment.

 _"_ _There's a flame in the darkness_

 _Burning deep within our hearts_

 _In the love that grows between us_

 _This is where the journey starts."_

Elsie couldn't believe it. It was absolutely _perfect._ She turned to Charles again and smiled at him, shaking her head slightly.

"And you say _I'm_ a plotter," she muttered, and he laughed.

 _"_ _There is hope in the stillness_

 _There is solace in our friends_

 _In the love that grows between us_

 _This is where the isolation ends."_

As Andy sang, Charles squeezed Elsie's hand more tightly, and he turned to look out at their guests: his family, now hers; her friends, now his. He'd chosen the song for the sentiment, for the idea that he and Elsie, once so independent and thinking they'd spend the rest of their days alone, had found solace not only in one another, but in each and every person in front of them - and beside them - as well.

 _"Come full circle in a moment_

 _Hold no shame in what you feel_

 _This old world will keep on turning_

 _And our broken hearts will heal._

 _When the rain falls around you_

 _Like your solitary tear_

 _In the love that flows between us_

 _Know that thunder holds no fear."_

Mary reached up and brushed at her eyes, her tears falling freely as the power of the words hit her straight in the heart. She'd been trying so hard since the fire to go it alone, to remain a pillar of strength in the community, to never let them see her sweat. But at night, when she was alone in her home and the rain was falling down outside, she couldn't help the fear that would creep in.

And now today, as she looked around her, as she saw her parents by her side and the nod of encouragement and reassurance from her mother, she felt nothing but calm. She looked up at Elsie and Charles, at Daisy and Tommy - her niece and, truly, her nephew - and she smiled as she realized that she was, in fact, the very opposite of _alone._

 _"In the struggle you hold sacred_

 _When the arrows pierce you through_

 _In the love that flows between us_

 _May your courage be renewed._

 _There is music in each silence_

 _There is promise in each day_

 _In the love that holds between us_

 _May we always find our way."_

Elsie started to cry in earnest then; Charles put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, bending and placing a kiss to the top of her head.

Becky looked on, her heart expanding at the sight of her big sister being so wholly loved by this wonderful new man who'd come into their lives. She reached over and took Daisy's hand, and they smiled at one another.

Beryl felt Bill reach for her hand, and she let out a sob into the handkerchief she was clutching.

"There, there," he soothed her gently.

"Happy tears," she gasped, "of course." She shook her head at her overabundance of emotion, but refused to give up the real reason for her tears. The 'promise in each day' meant so much more to her, in her knowledge that there was so much more that awaited her best friend than what anyone else present today even knew - except for Charles and Dr. Clarkson, of course. She hadn't even told her husband.

 _"Come full circle in a moment_

 _Hold no shame in what you feel_

 _This old world will keep on turning_

 _And our broken hearts will heal."_

Elsie gave up trying to maintain some semblance of control; she turned to Charles, wrapped her arm around his waist, and placed her other hand behind his neck, pulling him down until she was kissing him fiercely, aware that the tears that had been streaming down her own face were now mixing with his own.

 _"There's a flame in the darkness_

 _Burning deep within our hearts_

 _In the love that grows between us_

 _This is where the journey starts._

 _There is hope in the stillness_

 _There is solace in our friends_

 _In the love that holds between us_

 _The sacred journey never ends._

 _In the love that holds between us_

 _The sacred journey never ends."_

As the last notes faded out, an enormous round of applause came from the assembled guests.

Tommy and Daisy crowded their parents, with Becky and Robert standing steadfastly beside them. Elsie and Charles reached out to hug the children, and Reverend Travis offered a few final words. When he was finished, William played the recessional music on the keyboard instead of the Steinway; as everyone gathered themselves and began to make their way into the house, Charles pulled Elsie into the nearest room, closing the door behind him.

"Charlie?"

Anything else she might have said was cut off with his kiss, a kiss so soft and loving that it ignited something deep within her. She reached out and clutched at the lapels of his suit, completely lost in the scent and feel of him wrapped all around her.

"Hello, wife," he murmured against her lips once he'd regained some semblance of control.

"Hello, my beautiful husband," she replied as he touched his forehead to hers. "Just so you know, we're going to wait until they all sound like they're in and seated, and then we're going to sneak out for a few moments and take a bit more time for just the two of us. Beryl will get the servers started with drinks, and we'll be back in just in time to eat."

He looked at her curiously. "Alright," he agreed hesitantly.

Just as the last few people were filtering in and finding their tables, Elsie and Charles slipped out of the room. She glanced up the hallway and saw Robert, who simply smiled and shooed them down toward the door with his hand.

 _Go,_ he mouthed, and she nodded her thanks.

She led Charles down to the beach, where she toed off her shoes and indicated with a flick of her finger for him to do the same.

"Els?"

"We're going to walk in the water for a bit, and cool off, and just take five minutes for ourselves," she said, and the tone of her voice brooked no argument.

Charles opened his mouth to reply but then thought the better of it. He stepped out of his own shoes, and then reached his hand out to grasp hers so that he could steady himself as he removed his socks.

"What if my trousers get wet?" he asked.

She only laughed. "Then we'll dry them! Come on," she said, "I dare you! You can hold my hand; we won't go in too far."

He took her hand in his and kissed it, then let them fall between their bodies, fingers intertwined.

"I'll always hold your hand, Mrs. Carson. I find that you keep me rather steady."

The flicker of the sunset in his eyes melted her, and she nibbled on her lip as her eyes raked over his handsome features, including the little lock of hair that always fell across his brow.

He reached his other hand up and loosened her lip with his thumb, leaning in and kissing her once more before turning toward the ocean. He bent to roll up the cuffs of his pants, and Elsie gathered her dress in her hands, lifting the hem away from the water. Then they clasped hands once more and slowly meandered through the gentle waves, with only the vast expanse of the sea and the beauty of the setting sun ahead of them.

Neither saw Tommy and Daisy on the deck, standing and watching their parents as they paddled in the shallow water.

"They really do love each other so much," Tommy said. It was a foreign thing to him, but he found he was getting used to it rather quickly.

"And us," Daisy said, smiling at him.

 _He's my brother,_ she thought. _Soon, anyhow. Weird._

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "And us."

* * *

Elsie and Charles entered the reception room to the sound of thunderous applause, led by Becky, and the sound of some kind of whooping that Charles suspected may have come from Robert.

He turned to Elsie, who was positively radiant, and leaned over to kiss her. This only increased the applause and hollering, though, and he led her to the table, pulled out her chair to help her sit, and took his place to her left.

Beryl came out with two champagne flutes, and gave Elsie a sly wink. She thanked her friend, instantly calmed.

Charles, however, was not; he caught her glance and managed:

 _Surely you're not going to_ _ **drink**_ _that?_

Elsie merely smiled at him, clinked their glasses, and took a sip.

And then it clicked: _cider._ He chuckled; Beryl had taken a page out of his own book, and he loved her for it. What was even better was that no one was the wiser.

Robert made a toast and glasses were refilled. Charles and Elsie milled about for a little bit, making sure to stop by each table for photographs. Now back at their seats, though, Charles was maintaining an easy conversation with Robert when he felt someone watching him. He looked around the room and found Violet approaching their table.

"Violet!" Elsie exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and moving to hug the woman. "I think we missed you when we stopped by your table."

"Oh, that's quite alright," Violet said, patting Elsie's hand between both of hers. "I just needed to speak with Mary about something."

"Well," Elsie said, "I'm glad to have the chance to see you now. I'm only sorry we weren't able to visit for more time."

The older woman looked with fondness over to where Charles sat. "You take good care of him, Elsie," Violet said softly.

"I promise that I will."

And then, as Elsie had known would happen, Violet turned back to _her_ with a knowing look. "Take good care of _yourself,_ too, my dear." Violet glanced pointedly at Elsie's abdomen and then back at her face, not missing the flush that crept up Elsie's neck.

"He … He _told_ you?" she whispered.

"No," Violet said with a raised eyebrow, "but _you_ just did."

Elsie couldn't come up with a reply that wouldn't be rude; instead, she settled for a sigh.

"No one else knows except for Beryl, so please -"

"Oh, have no fear," Violet said, interrupting her. "It's not my secret to share."

"How _did_ you know? Obviously you suspected."

Violet pursed her lips in a smile and laughed quietly. "I saw Beryl sneak that cider into the kitchen, and saw her pour your glasses. A very good friend, that one."

"That she is," Elsie agreed.

She gave Violet a kiss on the cheek and returned to her place at the table just in time for the main meal.

Dinner was a festive affair; the band was playing music out on the deck, and the open doors allowed the sound to filter in through the house. The meal was delicious, and the conversation amongst friend was interspersed with the clinking of spoons on glasses and a good many kisses between bride and groom.

"Cake time!" Daisy announced after dinner, and Charles held out his hand for Elsie; she took it, and joined him by the cake table.

"How're you holding up?" he murmured in her ear.

"Tired and a bit achy, but _immensely_ happy," she answered, smiling sweetly at him.

"About as expected, then," Charles said, reaching for the knife. He looked at the cake, and then back at his wife. "I don't want to cut into this," he admitted.

And Elsie could see why; Beryl had simply outdone herself. The cake was comprised of two round tiers - the top was a three-layer chocolate cake filled with raspberry preserves, and the bottom was a contrasting three-layer yellow cake with coconut filling. Both tiers were glazed with a rich chocolate ganache. Atop the cake were decorations hand-cut from fondant and detailed with edible pearls and glitter, resembling seashells, sand dollars, and starfish. It was perfect for their beachfront wedding.

"Behave," Elsie murmured, and Charles obediently - and cleanly - tucked a bite of cake into her mouth. She did the same, but managed to get some of the ganache on the corner of his mouth; no matter - she kissed it away quickly.

As the evening progressed, guests got up to mingle and to head out to the deck for dancing. Elsie and Charles led the way to the 'dance floor' ... and stopped short in the doorway.

Someone - and Elsie had no idea _who,_ because everyone had been in the room with them for dinner - had strung twinkle lights all around the deck. The lighting was soft and festive, and matched the simplicity of their wedding most beautifully.

"We need music," she murmured, and Charles signaled to the band leader.

"How's this?" He wrapped his arm around Elsie's waist and took her other hand in his own, beginning to lead her across the dance floor, the instrumental version of "I've Got a Crush on You" playing in the background.

"Daisy knows this song," Elsie commented. "We discussed it once."

"That's because our daughter is very smart, indeed," he replied, and Elsie beamed.

"She is mine now, too, I suppose. I love that."

Charles drew her closer so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. "So does she," he whispered. "And so do I."

* * *

"Elsie, you look _radiant_ _!"_

Elsie turned to see Isobel beaming at her, and she drew her friend into a tight embrace.

"As do you," Elsie replied. "Happiness suits you, I think." She gave a brief nod of her head in Richard's direction, as he was at the next table chatting with Charles. "Him, too."

"I know," Isobel marveled. "It's been _wonderful._ I was such a fool to have almost missed out on this."

"Timing is everything," Elsie observed. "I'd say things have worked out splendidly."

"We're heading back in two days," Isobel said. "Violet was going to come with us, but I think she wants to spend some time with Edith. How is she? She seems exhausted."

"She is," Elsie agreed. "She's due next month, and she's hideously uncomfortable. To be honest, I was surprised to see her still here."

"Oh, no one would have missed this," Isobel murmured. "I think it's the most beautiful wedding I've ever been to."

Elsie looked at her friend fondly. "Thank you for that. Truly; it means a lot to me. I'm so glad to have you as a friend, Isobel. I mean that."

"I feel the same," Isobel replied, holding her hand out to Richard as he approached her side.

"Elsie, how are you?" he said, moving to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "A bit tired, but it's been a long day."

"Indeed," he acknowledged with a nod. "Well, the party is winding down a bit. You're not leaving on honeymoon tonight, are you?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, thank goodness. Charles booked us a room at the hotel, and we'll drive to Portland tomorrow and fly out."

"Do you know where you're headed yet?" Isobel chuckled, and Elsie shook her head.

"I've no idea! Charlie's a horrible liar, but he's been an excellent secret-keeper for this particular trip."

"I trust he's packed for you?"

"Mm-hm, with Beryl's help. I wasn't even allowed to look in the suitcase! He assures me they packed all I'll need. I was only allowed to pack an overnight bag to get me to the airport tomorrow!"

"Well, I'm sure you can trust them."

Elsie laughed. "I don't have a choice!"

She bade her friends goodbye and went off in search of her husband, finding him sequestered in a corner and speaking with Violet. Elsie observed as the older woman tucked something in Charles's palm, and her brow furrowed as she approached them.

"What's all this?" she asked, snaking her arm around Charles's waist and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he replied, dropping a kiss to her forehead and deftly pocketing the item in his hand.

Violet rose from her seat at that point, placing a kiss to Elsie's cheek and then one to Charles's. "I must be going," she said, stifling a yawn. "It's almost nine, and I think I'm partied out."

She took Elsie's hand and looked meaningfully into her eyes. "You take care of yourself," she said softly, but firmly. "I want you to relax on this vacation, my dear. You've both been through quite a bit this year, and you deserve some time off." She glanced at Elsie's abdomen, then back at her face, and raised an eyebrow.

Charles watched the exchange with awe. "Wait a minute …" he muttered.

"She knows," Elsie confirmed. "She guessed … sort of."

Charles opened his mouth to speak, but a hand from Violet silenced him. "Don't bother," she said. "Elsie can fill you in later."

Her eyes softened, and a gentle smile broke out on her face as she reached out to grasp Charles's hand. "I'm so very happy for you, my boy," she whispered, and then she turned and left them standing alone.

"Party's breaking up," Charles said to Elsie. "What do you say we make the rounds one last time and then get out of here? I find I'm rather anxious to have a night alone with my _wife."_

He whispered the last bit in Elsie's ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "Sounds good to me," she replied.

They found Mary first, thanking her profusely for offering her home for the event. Next, they came upon Beryl in the kitchen, directing the caterers as they cleaned up.

"Everything was just wonderful," Elsie was sure to tell them all. "Thanks so very much."

"It was our pleasure," said the chef, whose name was May. "Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you," Charles said.

Elsie tapped Charles's arm and pointed down the hallway and at the front steps, where Daisy and Tommy were sitting and chatting. He nodded, and with one last wave to Beryl and a promise not to do anything _she_ wouldn't do, they went out to see the kids.

"All set?" Tommy asked, and Charles smiled at him.

"We are. Tommy, Daisy … you both did so _very_ well today," Charles said quietly. "We're very proud of you both."

Daisy smiled, and stood up to give her Papa a great big hug. "I'll miss you," she said.

Charles crouched down by her side and placed a kiss to her forehead. "We'll miss you, too. And we'll call - no, _Skype_ \- with you every day."

Daisy nodded, and Elsie looked up as John and Anna's car pulled up to the front of the house.

"Here we are," John said. He and Anna got out of the car, hugging Elsie and shaking hands with Charles.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Anna said when Charles held his hand out, and she wrapped him in a hug, making everyone laugh.

"You didn't have to pull the car around for the kids," Charles admonished lightly. "They could have walked."

"Oh, but it was in the way," Anna said, and she pointed off toward where she'd been parked.

Elsie looked past where Anna was standing and gasped as she saw the limousine that was now parked there. "Charlie," she said lowly.

"Wasn't me," he said, confused.

"It was us," John said. "And my mother. She _insisted_ that you not drive yourselves to the hotel, nor to the airport at that god-awful hour, and Anna and I had to agree. The driver will be back at five in the morning for you, and all of your luggage is already inside the car thanks to the house key you so graciously provided."

Elsie moved over and kissed them each on the cheek. "You both - _and_ your mother - are amazing. _Thank you."_

Daisy and Tommy ran over to peek in the limo, climbing in and making Charles promise to rent one at some point in the distant future, just for them.

"Like Tommy's graduation," Daisy said, "or maybe my _birthday."_

Charles laughed and shook his head. "We'll see," he promised.

After another round of kisses and hugs, Charles found himself helping Elsie into the limo. A minute later they were snuggled in the back seat, looking at the town lights as they sped by in a blur.

* * *

"All set in there, Els," Charles said as he exited the bathroom of their hotel suite. "Should I turn off the light?"

"Hm?" Elsie asked, yawning widely as she rose up on her elbows in the bed. "Oh, please do."

Charles took a moment to appreciate the satin trim of her nightie - _clearly new,_ he realized instantly - and flipped the switch before making his way to the bedside. He climbed in next to her and raised his arm, allowing her to snuggle closer to his body.

He trailed his fingertips up and down her bare arm, fingering the strap at the top of the nightie.

"This was a nice selection," he murmured. "I do believe my wife has exquisite taste."

Elsie moved up over his body and leaned in, her hair fanning on either side of his face as she kissed him - chastely at first, and then more deeply as his hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her close.

"I think it's clear that she does," she said meaningfully, and he smiled, reaching up to finger a lock of her hair, grateful that she'd allowed him the pleasure of taking it down earlier.

"You look so wonderful in the moonlight," he said.

"Flatterer," she said, trying to stifle yet another yawn.

" _And_ you need to sleep," Charles said, reaching for her hand as it trailed up his leg.

"On our wedding night? Surely you jest," she argued.

But a moment later, Elsie's body betrayed her as she yawned _again,_ widely.

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head.

Charles moved her gently until she was lying back on her pillow, and he felt her relax instantly as she allowed her body to sink into the mattress. He scooted down and placed a kiss to her belly.

"Your Mummy is _very_ tired," he whispered, "and she's working so _very_ hard to keep you safe and snug in there. And it's been a _very_ long day, and we have to get up _very_ early."

Elsie reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. "And she wants _very_ much not to just fall asleep on her wedding night."

Charles climbed back up and kissed her on the tip of her nose. "That's too bad," he said. "It's late, and as it is you'll only have about six hours' sleep before we have to be up in time to make it to the airport. Your husband was a _very_ poor planner and scheduled an impossibly early flight."

"Well," Elsie said, reaching up for another kiss, "to be fair, he booked the flight _before_ he knew his wife was pregnant."

"That is true," he smiled.

He moved down onto his own pillow and drew her close; Elsie rested her head on his chest, right over his heart.

"I promise to ravish you _tomorrow_ night," he teased. "And any other night you wish. But tonight, you rest."

"I love you, Charlie," she whispered tearfully. "So much."

He tilted her chin up so that he could see her eyes, which were shimmering brightly in the moonlight that poured in through the window. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, and gave the faintest shake of his head, marveling at the wonder that was his wife.

"I love you too, Elsie."

 _More than anyone ever has,_ she filled in as she drifted off to sleep. _Without a doubt._

* * *

 **Whew! I hope it lived up to some of your expectations. Next up: Honeymoon! Thanks again for all of your reblogs on tumblr and your reviews here. I love hearing what you have to say. xx**


	50. On the Island

**A/N: Thank you for all the amazing reviews for the wedding!**

 **To the person who left the guest review about originally not being enthused about Tommy's adoption but still being on board because you think that story line IS working, THANK YOU! Your review just about made my week, as I know a fair few gave up on me once that direction became clearer.**

 **As always, I appreciate everyone's support! Keep the reviews coming; I love to hear what you think.**

 **My thanks and a hug for brenna-louise for the dedicated beta work!**

 **Shout-out to my girl dibdab4 for allowing me to borrow the idea of a Crawley-owned honeymoon destination. She wrote it first and kindly agreed to lend it to me. (Just not the locale lol.)**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 **Ahem ... NSFW.**

* * *

 _ **August 2-9, 2015**_

Elsie woke in the pitch black hotel room, wondering for a moment just where she even _was._ The past day came back to her instantly, though, a flood of images of prayers and dancing, of love and family.

She rolled over to kiss her husband only to discover that he was no longer in their bed. A glance at the clock told her it was half-past three. She knew they'd have to leave at five; after a moment, her brain registered the sound of the shower.

Charles was just rinsing his hair when Elsie slid the shower door open and scared him half to death.

"Sorry," Elsie giggled, climbing in with him. She took a moment to appreciate his fine physique and instantly felt desire and heat pool between her legs.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked, drawing her in for a kiss.

"Well," she murmured, kissing his chest as her hands pressed and squeezed at his body, "it would appear that I can't sleep well when my husband abandons our bed on our wedding night. And then I heard the shower, so I thought I'd _join_ you."

"I see," he breathed.

He grabbing onto her hips - both for support and to turn her body around so that she could grab hold of the bar that was attached to the shower wall. He dipped his head to her neck, kissing and suckling the skin there, realizing he must be leaving marks but reveling in the sounds she was making. He slid his hand around her hip and slipped it between her legs; she moaned loudly, her voice echoing off the walls of the shower, and her desire almost consumed her as he slipped his finger inside of her.

"Not like that, Charlie, please," she moaned, pressing her bottom against him. "I need _all_ of you. _Now."_

"Are you sure? Like this?" he growled in her ear, his desire pressing up against her, and she nodded as she bent her body a bit, pleading with him once again.

" _Yes."_

She bit down on her lip as he adjusted his height and gently slid into her, the friction so intense in combination with the feel of his hands still caressing her that she shattered in a matter of moments, with him following immediately behind, in a combination of soft cries and the calling out of each other's names.

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?" he asked as she zipped the top of her overnight bag. "How's your back doing? It'll be a long time on the plane."

Elsie turned to look at him fondly, her face still flushed from the heat of the shower. "I'm _fine,_ love," she said, cupping his cheek. "Now kiss me before we have to leave."

He readily complied, breaking away from her only when his phone buzzed in his pocket, alerting him that the limo was there to pick them up.

"Off we go, Mrs. Carson," he said warmly. "I hope you approve of where we're headed."

She took his hand in hers as he shouldered both her bag and his. "Any day that I begin as 'Mrs. Carson' is bound to be headed in a good direction," she said. "So, my darling husband, lead the way!"

* * *

Elsie buckled herself into the seat of the plane and then turned to him.

"Explain," she demanded, her tone not quite matching the smile that was brightening her face. They'd just flown from Portland to New York, and this second plane would fly them to their final destination.

"The U.S. Virgin Islands, Charles!? Not that I'm not _ecstatic,_ mind you; I've never been anywhere in the Caribbean. But it's about the last place I'd have thought _you'd_ pick."

"Well," he said sheepishly, "would you believe me if I told you it was a gift?"

She cocked her head, trying to figure out who ...

"Of course," she nodded. _"Violet."_

"Precisely. She insisted, and we worked it out ages ago. I would have swept you away to Europe for a week of sightseeing and tours, but she talked me out of it. Thank goodness, now, given the baby and all. I think a week off from life is more than appropriate."

"And what was it that she handed you last night … a key?"

"Yes, actually, it was. It's to her place – a private property on St. John."

"She owns a private property on an island in the Caribbean." She chuckled, then added in a mutter, "Of _course_ she does."

"Yes, it was the best investment Robert's father ever made, actually. Private beach, completely secluded, and the island is accessible only by water. St. John doesn't have an airport so we're flying to St. Thomas and will take a boat to the house itself. That's why we couldn't leave last night, because I couldn't make the timeline work out with the flights. The island charter boat only runs at certain times, and four in the morning isn't one of them … Elsie, what is it?"

She had tuned him out somewhere around the word _water._ "Completely secluded?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry as she grasped his hand. "Charlie, what if something happens?"

"No worries, love," he said, his voice soothing her as the plane started to move. "There is a full medical facility on the island, and a vehicle on the property should we need help of any kind. If anything life-threatening were to happen, there's also a med flight service and a full hospital on St. Thomas. The local MD has been alerted that we're flying in _and_ is aware of your condition; my cell number is already in his phone contact list."

He smiled at her and then leaned over to kiss her temple. "You don't think I'd take any chances when half my family is sitting right beside me, do you?" he rumbled in her ear.

She shook her head and swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. "You're incredible."

"I'll remind you of that when I forget some important date or other, or spill bleach on your favorite blouse in the wash."

She laughed, then reached for his arm and hugged it close to her, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Sleep, Elsie," he whispered, snuggling himself further down in his seat. "Because you know I will."

She giggled, then promptly obeyed; she was out cold in five minutes as they flew off for a week of what promised to be pure bliss.

* * *

And bliss it _was._

The charter pulled up to the boat dock directly in front of the villa. Charles tipped the driver and sent him on his way, and he sent Elsie up to the house to unlock the door while he carried their suitcases up to the landing.

She opened the door and-

"Oh, my," she breathed.

The main room was huge! The floor was cool, pink stone, with plush rugs scattered everywhere. The open-concept design allowed her to see the gourmet kitchen from where she stood, and she could also see a set of French doors that appeared to let out onto a patio; a fire pit with chairs set around it was _just_ visible past the patio on the beach.

She meandered around the living area, shaking her head in wonder. After a moment, she located the master bedroom, which was decorated in a soft beige. The king-sized bed looked rather inviting, she thought with a smirk, and she deposited her overnight bag on top of the coverlet and nipped into the loo.

Charles was just closing the front door when she came out.

"Hungry?" he asked, and she nodded quickly.

"Famished."

They found an enormous basket of fresh fruit set atop the kitchen island, with a card made out in Violet's hand which simply read, "Enjoy your stay."

"How'd she get _that_ here?" Elsie mused.

But Charles shook his head and set it aside as Elsie unwrapped the basket and marveled over the contents.

"There should be food in here, too," Charles muttered, opening the refrigerator. "Ah, yes, here we are."

They found a wide variety of steaks, chicken, vegetables, and more. Fruit juices, milk, sparkling cider, two bottles of wine in case Charles wanted to indulge, and plenty of bottled water. The pantry cabinet was also adequately stocked, including Elsie's favorite cereal - a new craving that had developed only last week - and Charles's favorite brand of chocolate biscuits.

"Violet has connections at the local grocery, evidently," she murmured, sneaking up behind her husband and wrapping her arms around him and dropping a kiss to his back. "Bless her."

They chatted a bit as they worked to prepare a simple grilled chicken salad for lunch, with Charles ooh-ing and aah-ing over the grill out on the patio (and Elsie filing that information away as a potential future Christmas gift). After lunch, they took a couple of chairs down from the boat shed and relaxed on the beach, dozing off and on in the shade of the palms.

Elsie woke about two hours later, having sufficiently napped for the moment. She turned her head to see Charles dragging wood over to the fire pit and piling it up for later.

"Have a nice nap?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I did. I wouldn't mind taking a walk, though," she said, stretching. "Get my bearings as to where we are."

"Sure. I'd like to change clothes, I think, and there's a ceramic studio that I'd like to visit, although that doesn't have to be tonight."

"Oh, let's go tonight," Elsie said brightly. "I need a good walk after all the time on the planes and then falling asleep on the beach." She approached him and wrapped him in a hug. "And _then_ we can spend the rest of the week strictly on this beautiful property, if you'd like."

He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tightly. "Sounds good."

* * *

When they returned that evening, after having spent a leisurely couple of hours exploring the shopping area and walking along the vast beaches and paths, Elsie shooed Charles outside so that she could make dinner for him. She brought two plates out and they ate fireside, a glass of wine for him and some water for her.

"There's a great music system in there," Charles told her. "I can put something on if you like?"

"You're sure we won't be disturbing anyone?"

"Elsie," he smiled, "you saw how isolated we are. This property is about five acres of beach and vegetation. No one is going to hear _anything_ we do."

She raised an eyebrow at him, feeling herself flush in a way that had nothing to do with the weather or the fire. "Well, then … yes. To the music."

He took their dirty dishes in and Elsie added a log to the fire. It wasn't cold, of course, but once the sun had gone down the fire was a lovely addition. The moon was glistening off the water, and she couldn't remember many times when she'd felt more at peace than at that very moment. She tucked the two lounge chairs side-by-side and draped some towels over them - a makeshift love seat on which she and Charles could snuggle and watch the stars.

Charles returned and joined her by her side, a book in his hand.

"You want to do that tonight?" she asked with a smile, and he nodded, donning his reading glasses.

"Why not? We can at least begin the discussion. The firelight isn't that great for reading, but I brought this," he said, pulling a book light from his pocket and clipping it onto the cover.

He cracked open the book - _25,000 Baby Names_ \- and Elsie snuggled in under his arm.

"There's a checklist here," he said, pointing to one of the first pages. "Supposed to help narrow it down by what we think is important."

Elsie scanned the list in question, borrowing his glasses to do so.

"I think, for me, it might be the meaning? Or perhaps initials; can't have some horrible acronym initials, like P.M.S. or something."

Charles laughed. "Agreed, although we're a _C._ But I know what you mean. I also don't mind if it's not unique; I'd rather like an older name, myself. Those are coming back now, aren't they?"

"Mm," Elsie agreed. "Alright, then. Let's see what we've got."

Charles flipped the page and noticed a 'Most Popular Names' section. "Wait … What's this?" he murmured, flipping ahead a bit. "Look here, Els - most popular names by decade. It goes all the way back to 1900. And then there's this bit: _Famous Names in Literature."_

They perused the lists a bit, checking off ones they liked. For the next hour they volleyed different ideas back and forth, seeing how they sounded coming before _Carson._ They hadn't even gotten to meanings yet and already had a running list of four girls' names and three boys' names, and Charles closed the book and laid it on the chair by his legs.

"Come here, Mrs. Carson," he murmured into her hair as he drew her further into his embrace.

"With pleasure. I can't tell you how happy I am, love, discussing names for this precious baby as we're just shut away from the world."

"I know."

They stayed like that for a long while, the sound of the ocean lulling them into a deep peace.

* * *

They slept in rather late the next morning, finally able to catch up on sleep from the past few days. Charles made brunch and they sat out on the front patio in the shade, chatting about the baby and how they'd have to move house.

"I hate to leave," Elsie sighed. "But, then again, it's lovely thinking of buying a home together, of choosing exactly what we'd like."

Charles sat back and laced his fingers over his stomach, his legs stretched out before him.

"I'd like a proper library," he said. "With a large desk overlooking some nice property that we'll have - a garden, perhaps, full of flowers. Or maybe something on the water. You?"

"A large kitchen," Elsie said instantly. "And another sun patio, if possible. But the kitchen is number one for me, I think."

"We'll need at least five bedrooms," Charles mused, "so that Becky can stay over if she wants - or anyone else, for that matter."

"This is going to be a huge expense, Charles," Elsie said softly.

"And it's one we won't debate now," he said. "I've just sold a law firm, remember? And you're still working _and_ earning a steady income from the equine therapy program."

"But there's the cost of Becky's facility, too," she protested.

"And we'll be renting to John and Anna," he said, silencing her with a kiss. "We'll be _fine."_

They lapsed into silence for a bit before cleaning up the dishes and showering - separately.

Charles came out from dressing to find Elsie on the sofa in the living area; she had a book in her lap but was staring off into space.

Wordlessly, he approached her from behind and dropped his hands to her shoulders, massaging them.

"Ohh, that feels lovely," she breathed, and she melted into his touch.

* * *

 _ **Two days later …**_

"Charlie …"

He woke instantly, seeing Elsie standing over him and resting her hand on his shoulder.

"You're baking out here, love," she said. "You need to get out of the sun for a while."

"Perhaps I should," he said, taking the hand she'd offered to help steady him as he got to his feet. He dropped a kiss to her lips and thanked her for watching out for him.

"Always," she whispered with a wink. "Now come up and cool off in the house, and then we'll get some more sunscreen on you if you're coming down again."

"What did you get up to while I was passed out on the beach?"

"I finished my book," she said. "I am sure everyone at home will think it boring as hell, but a week to do nothing but what we've been doing is heavenly to me. No animals to feed, no one waking me at the crack of dawn, no one running through the house … I can't thank you enough for this, Charlie. I mean that."

And it was true: their honeymoon had been completely perfect so far. They'd swum, sunbathed, eaten, walked, shopped, made love, and slept. They Skyped the kids after dinner every night; things seemed to be going well back home, giving them absolutely nothing to worry about. Every day brought a rain shower mid-afternoon, which was a welcome respite from the heat. The first night was the only one that had been cool enough for a fire, though, but neither of them minded.

"You deserved all of this and _more,"_ he said insistently, and he took her hand as they walked back up to the house.

* * *

After a late dinner on their fifth night on the island, Elsie took Charles by the hand.

"Come with me," she said softly, and he smirked as he tilted his head toward the bedroom suggestively.

"No," she laughed. _"Outside."_

She led him to the beach, where she'd set out a couple of towels on the chairs when he was making dinner.

He felt her drop his hand and watched as she stepped closer to the water. The moon had been waning but was still so bright as it shone on the water, with no city or town lights to challenge it.

She turned to face him, seductively, and he knew in an instant what she had planned. Sure enough, she slowly brought her hands to the buttons of her sundress - buttons which went from the low neckline at her bosom all the way down the front of the dress - and began to undo them.

He stood mesmerized, unable to move as he stared at her in awe. He took it all in: her hair, tied back but coming a bit loose, wisps of it fluttering in the gentle breeze; her fragrance, the one he could identify in his sleep by now; her eyes, glistening, which he knew had darkened the moment he'd taken her hand; her lips, deep red, with the lower one clenched underneath her teeth in a way that she now knew he found alluring.

She worked her way down to the very last button, bending forward to reach them all; as she stood, the front of the dress naturally fell open, and in three strides he was directly in front of her, his hands on her collarbone as his fingers deftly pushed the straps off of her now nicely-tanned shoulders.

"Elsie," he gasped, "you're _beautiful._ So, so very beautiful."

She reached her hands up and buried her fingers in his hair, drawing him close and kissing him deeply, finding her tongue suddenly at war with his own.

He tore himself away long enough to catch her dress as she shrugged it the rest of the way off. He turned to toss it onto the chair and turned back to discover that, in a flash, she'd removed her undergarments as well.

"Aren't you coming with me?" she teased, dodging his grasp and wading into the water.

"What? In _there?"_ he asked incredulously, pointing to the ocean.

"Why not?" She swam a little ways out - just enough to where her feet still touched bottom and she could easily stand above the water - and playfully splashed the water in his direction.

"Why not, indeed?" he muttered. "No one around for miles ..." He smiled as he tore off his clothing, tossing it on top of her own and taking a running start before diving gracefully into the waves.

The tide was low, gentle, and he swam around a bit as Elsie watched him. She loved being in the water; weightless, carefree. She let the gentle waves take her a bit closer to shore and she stood up, only waist-deep now, and Charles found himself drawn to her once again, to the way the water glistened on her breasts in the moonlight.

But he didn't move, and so she swam back out to him, allowing herself to be caught up in his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him thoroughly.

"You're salty," he laughed when they broke apart.

She reached forward and nipped his lip between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue and, afterwards, the tip of her finger.

"So are you," she smiled, wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders and using the leverage and the buoyancy of the water to rub herself against him.

When she heard his breaths become shorter and more frantic, she unclenched her legs then reached down and took him in her hand.

"Els?"

"Shh … later," she reassured him, and she smiled as his head rolled back in ecstasy.

* * *

Hours later, just after midnight, Elsie came out of the shower to find her husband sitting up in bed, reading.

"Well, did you have a nice nap?" she teased, running a brush through her hair. "I'm sorry if the hair dryer woke you."

"I did, actually, and it didn't wake me," he said, setting his book and glasses aside on the nightstand. He extended his arm to her, silently beckoning her to come closer, and she willingly complied. "I was already up when I heard you in there … almost joined you, but _my_ hair had already dried."

She laughed softly, then gasped as his warm hand crept up underneath the towel and caressed her bare bottom.

"I've been _very_ good, I'd like to point out," he said. "It's been almost a full forty-eight hours …"

"Both of those things are true," she acknowledged, her eyebrow quirked up. "Well, given that you took a lovely nap earlier …"

He quickly tugged the towel and dropped it to the floor, then laughed at her squeal as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into his lap. He peppered her face with kisses, and she reached up to cup his cheek.

"My darling man," she said softly. "I love you so very much."

She reclined back against the pillow and he moved over her, leaning in once more for a soft, sensual kiss that quickly turned more passionate and heated.

His lips trailed down over her collarbone and down to her breasts, but she gasped slightly as he took her nipple playfully between his teeth.

"Gently," she whispered. "They're so sensitive now …"

He immediately adjusted his movements, lavishing the spot with his tongue and blowing on it, heightening her desire as he moved to the other breast.

She tried to reach for him, to return his caresses, but he pushed her hand away.

"No," he murmured, trailing his tongue all over her body now. _"Your_ turn."

"Well, I suppose you can be the boss tonight," she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed as her body moved of its own accord beneath him.

He worshiped her with his mouth and his hands, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy twice before backing off again, her soft cries and moans music to his ears.

He sensed her growing impatient beneath him, however, and moved up to kiss that soft spot behind her ear. "How do you feel, love?"

She looked deep into his eyes.

"Incomplete. Charlie, I need you …"

She gasped as he slid inside of her and then reached up and captured his lips.

They moved together slowly with soft, deep movements, trying to be as close as possible to one another until they simply lost track of where one body ended and the other began.

* * *

Elsie was zipping her suitcase shut when Charles wrapped his arms around her from behind. She sighed happily as he buried his face in her hair, kissing her head and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

"I'm going to miss this," he murmured, and she nodded.

"Me, too. Swear to me that we'll get away just the two of us every year for our anniversary." She turned in his arms and placed her hands upon his chest, and he rested his head on hers.

"That is something to which I can _easily_ swear," he said. "This has been the best week of my entire life, I think. I'm not sure I've ever been happier, or more relaxed, than I am at this moment."

"I know," she agreed.

They stood like that for a few more moments, Elsie turning her head so that she could hear his heartbeat.

"We'll have to tell the children about the baby soon, Charlie. Everything seems fine, and I feel wonderful. We've got an appointment next week; if all goes well, let's do it after that. I think I'd like some time for them to get used to the idea before returning to school."

He backed away to look at her face, having heard something a bit reserved in her tone. "Do you expect any problems from them? I'd think they'll be more than happy."

"Well," Elsie hedged, "I certainly _hope_ they'll be over the moon. But I've got a younger sister, Charlie. I remember quite well what an adjustment it was for me, not having undivided attention any longer." She licked her lips and added, "Let's just say I'd rather be prepared for the worst than expect the best."

"Fair enough," he said. "Alright, love, we need to get going. They'll be here any minute."

She nodded, and she took his hand and placed it on her heart.

"In the weeks and months to come, when I get fat and grouchy and bitchy and uncomfortable, I want you to remember this week. I want you to remind _me_ of this week. Promise me."

He laughed softly and shook his head. "I promise," he said, knowing better than to argue.

Neither saw the blinking light on her phone, the indication of a phone call that had come in an hour ago, the notification of a message that neither of them had been expecting at all.

* * *

 **I've not been to St. John, but I have friends who've stayed at a place just like Violet's. The information about the charter boats, airport, medical facilities, and even the ceramics studio are all true.**

 **Please leave a wee review and let me know what you thought! xx**


	51. Back from Paradise

**A/N: Many thanks to you all for the amazing reviews you're leaving for this story! I won't keep you hanging on that phone message - it's where we start in this update.**

 **The house described herein is a real property for sale in southern Maine. Photos can be found on my tumblr blog.**

 **Disclaimer: Still not a police officer or an attorney - or a realtor, or a financial consultant, or a doctor. Willing suspension of disbelief applies if anything seems odd, although I did try to base this chapter on as many real life conversations as possible.**

 **Thanks to brenna-louise for the proof! :) xxx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **August 9, 2015**_

"I'm going to nip into the loo while you get the bags," Elsie said, resting her hand on Charles's arm. He nodded and muttered something, already intent on locating their suitcases on the conveyor belt.

 _He's exhausted,_ she thought, smiling to herself as she headed for the ladies' room. _Which makes two of us._

On her way back to baggage claim, Elsie pulled her phone out and took it off of airplane mode. Her notification light was blinking but she didn't recognize the missed call number, so she tapped the voicemail icon and put the phone to her ear.

Charles pulled the bags off of the belt and turned to find his wife, locating her after a few seconds and immediately noting that something wasn't right. He hurried over to her just in time to see her stagger; he reached out and caught her as she stumbled, preventing her from sliding to the floor.

"Elsie, what is it? Is it the children?"

She pulled the phone from her ear and tapped the number to replay the message, then handed it to him.

"Listen to this," she whispered. "And no, it's not the children."

He took the phone warily and did as she asked.

" _Elsie, it's Willis. I'm sorry to bother you as I hear you're on honeymoon, but it couldn't wait. The date's been set for Sarah O'Brien's trial, finally. But she lawyered up after making her confession, and her attorney wants her confession overturned. And … I don't even pretend to understand this, but they want to speak to you, too … to have you testify on her behalf, I think. I wanted you to be prepared in case they come by your house. They'll subpoena you if you don't meet with them willingly. If I were you, I'd get an attorney as soon as you get back. Call me. And, Elsie? Congratulations. I'm sorry for the bad timing."_

"Bloody hell," he whispered, his eyes widened as he handed the phone back. "Why would she ever want _you_ as a witness?"

"Well," Elsie replied shakily, "maybe they're trying to prove some kind of diminished capacity? I have no idea. I do know that there's _no fucking way_ I am _helping_ that bitch."

He put his arm around her and pulled her close for a moment, placing a kiss to her head. She was trembling in his arms.

"Let's go home, love," he said. "Let's go home and hug the kids. We can bring them to dinner and then tuck in with a movie or something. You can call Willis back after all that, alright? Build up some strength first, I say."

She nodded. "You're right. And I've _really_ missed the kids."

He smiled fondly at her. "Me, too, although I'd not give up the week we just had for anything in the world."

He placed one more kiss to her head and then took up the bags.

"Let's go home."

* * *

"Papa!"

Daisy ran down the walkway and into Charles's arms as he bent down to receive her exuberant hug.

"Oh, I've _missed_ you," he whispered. "It's good to be home."

Tommy, on the other hand, hung back by the door, watching as Max bounded down the front steps toward them - first jumping on Elsie and licking her chin as she gave him a hug, and then running circles around both Elsie _and_ Charles, as though trying to herd them back into the family unit. Tommy laughed when Max sat down and stared at him pointedly and barked, as if to say _You, too! Come on!_

"Alright, boy," Tommy said, heading over to the rest of the family. Elsie gave him a hug, and Charles joined them and clapped Tommy on the shoulder.

"Welcome home," Tommy said. "You guys look like you had a good week - lots of sun, yeah?"

"Yes, and it was marvelous," Elsie sighed. "The most work either of us had to do all week was to make dinner."

"Good. How are you feeling?"

Elsie felt Charles tense up beside her as she said, "Fine … Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Tommy shrugged. "You didn't seem like you were feeling very well before the wedding. Couldn't have been nerves, because you were too excited."

"Well, I'm fine now," Elsie said, reaching to pick up her bag again before heading into the house. "But thanks."

Charles watched as the kids and Max followed her in.

 _Better tell them sooner rather than later,_ he thought.

* * *

 _ **August 15, 2015**_

Elsie and Charles had spent their second week as a married couple discussing and beginning minor repairs and maintenance that the farm needed: paint here, some new trim there. They'd laughed about that one night, about how the first week of marriage was a blissful escape, but how the moment they'd returned it was business as usual.

Elsie was making a bit of progress with her therapy, although not as quickly as she hoped for. Still, though, she wasn't willing to take any sort of medication because of the baby, and at least she could now manage to walk into the barn - as long as Star and Scarlett were securely tucked into their stalls. Star was definitely the problem, and so Elsie had asked Anna and John to relocate Scarlett to a different stall at the other end of the row; this way, Elsie could enter the barn through the back door and Star would be out of her line of vision - and she, his. She was rather proud of herself that she'd managed to feed Scarlett a carrot just that morning … albeit with Tommy having held her hand as she'd done so.

" _She's missed you," he'd said, and Elsie had smiled at him._

" _Perhaps," she'd allowed. "She was always my girl, that one."_

" _You did a good job today," he'd added._

" _Well," she'd whispered, "this is rather a role reversal, isn't it?"_

 _Tommy had just smirked. "Whatever works, Elsie."_

Elsie and Charles had decided that morning to tell the kids about the baby soon, and so Elsie had asked Anna to come by and see her this afternoon, in order to tell her first - privately. She wasn't sure how Anna would take the news, but once the kids knew there would be no keeping it secret any longer.

As though bidden by Elsie's thoughts, Anna's car pulled up the drive and she parked by the barn. As she alighted, Elsie met her outside and wrapped her in a hug.

"How are you?"

"Okay," Anna smiled. "You? I just saw you yesterday, so something must be up … I know you: _plotter extraordinaire."_

Elsie laughed. "Tommy, are you alright out here?" she called, and his reply came from somewhere inside of the barn.

"Sure thing. I'll feed them and put 'em out to exercise a bit, okay?"

"Thanks."

She led Anna to the back of the house. "I've set us up out back if that's alright. It's really lovely out today."

"Of course."

When they were seated with refreshments and relaxing by the pond, Anna turned to her friend.

"Alright, Elsie. What the hell is going on?"

Elsie chewed her lip as she stared into her lemonade, then set the glass on the table and looked up at Anna.

"Oh, my God," Anna whispered. "Don't tell me something awful, Elsie. Don't tell me you're sick, or that Charles is, or that anything is wrong with the kids."

Elsie's eyes flew open. "No! Nothing bad. Not … well, no. Nothing like what you've just asked."

Anna was visibly relieved. "Alright then, that's good."

"Yeah," Elsie whispered. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. "But I _do_ have news."

"Okay," Anna said slowly, her brow furrowed. "And are you going to _tell_ me this news today?"

"I'm pregnant," Elsie blurted quietly.

Anna's face showed myriad expressions in the span of about two seconds, but Elsie saw them all: shock, disbelief, a tinge of heartache, more surprise, and then _joy._

"What? You're kidding! That's … remarkable! And _wonderful!"_ Anna jumped up from her seat and gave Elsie a tight hug. "When?" she whispered into her ear.

"February."

" _February?_ How long have you known?" She went back to her seat and waited for Elsie's reply.

Elsie looked at her hands, which she was now twisting in her lap. "Since the day we bought the dresses," she said softly. Looking up, she added, "Beryl guessed. Made me send Charlie for a test. We took it the next morning, and then Dr. Clarkson confirmed it. We didn't want to say until … well …"

But Anna understood only _too_ well, as Elsie suspected she might.

"Oh, I get it," Anna said softly. "Because things don't always work out, do they?" She reached up and wiped at her eye, trying to chase away tears before they fell.

Elsie reached across the table and took her hand. "But sometimes, Anna, when you least expect it, they _do."_

Anna squeezed her hand and nodded. "I'm happy, Elsie. The idea will take some getting used to, but don't ever doubt that I'm so very happy for you all."

"I know."

Anna huffed out a laugh. "You're going to have to add on a bedroom!" she exclaimed.

"Shhh," Elsie warned quietly. "We've not told the kids yet, although we will soon. But we're not adding on to the farm, no."

"No? But how …" Anna gasped. "Oh, surely you're not _moving?_ You love this place!"

"I do," Elsie agreed. "Which is why I'd never _sell_ it."

"So what's your plan?"

"Well," Elsie said, smiling, "I was rather hoping that a lovely, younger couple who is in the market for a new place just _might_ consider renting it. Know of any?"

Anna's smile lit up the entire patio.

"I just might at that," she giggled.

"Good," Elsie said. "Go home, then, and please feel free to tell John."

"When _will_ you tell the kids? They'll figure it out eventually, obviously."

Elsie nodded. "I know. I think Tommy actually suspects something is up, and may have even figured it out by now."

"That wouldn't surprise me at all. He's observant, that one. Quiet, but always watching. And _quick."_

"Agreed. Well, one more week puts us around the end of the first trimester. We figured if all goes well until then, we'd be safe to mention it." She laughed. "Charlie's meeting with a realtor already - that's where he is now."

"Life changes a lot when you least expect it, doesn't it?" Anna mused.

"It sure does."

* * *

Dinner that night was uneventful, and Charles traded evening chores with the kids: animals for dishes. Both kids lit up at the idea and raced to be the first outside.

"Good call," Elsie said warmly, wrapping her arms around his waist as they stood by the sink. "I'll take dishes over lugging hay and water _any_ day."

He chuckled, his voice rumbling through his chest to her ear. "You will, because you can't yet _lift_ the hay bales or the water."

"Fair enough," she mumbled. "Still …"

He relinquished his hold on her and turned on the faucet, filling the sink and the casserole with hot, soapy water.

"So how'd it go today?" she asked him.

"Well … What would you say if I told you I've found us a house?" he asked.

She laughed, then realized he was serious. "Wait. You're not kidding."

He shook his head slowly. "I'm not, as it happens. I think it's perfect."

"And whereabouts _is_ this 'perfect property?'"

Charles looked up from the sink to see that Elsie's lips were pressed together tightly, and he hadn't missed the annoyance in her voice.

"I've not _purchased_ it, Els. Please don't be like that. But it's a lovely listing, and I think we should go see it tomorrow."

" _Tomorrow?"_

"Yes," he replied, rinsing the dish he'd been scrubbing. He handed it over to her, and she dried it as he explained. "The listing is new, but the owners aren't quite ready to move just yet. They're building something upstate and need another three or four months to finish. The realtor - whose name is Napier, by the way; nice chap - showed me the listing when I explained a bit about what our needs are."

"And _what,_ precisely, are those needs?"

Charles drained the sink and dried his hands, licking his lips as he cautiously formed his reply.

"The same ones we discussed while on honeymoon: large kitchen, library and office, bedrooms for each of the kids so that no one shares, and a nice piece of property."

He folded the towel and placed it on the counter before turning to face her. "Els? Love, what is it? I'm sorry if I shocked you … I didn't mean to."

"No, it's not that," she said quietly, shaking her head before looking up at him. She saw the wary look in his eyes and regretted putting it there. "I think I just expected we'd begin looking _together,_ you know? It's nothing to worry about, honestly. I just felt a bit … excluded, perhaps?"

He moved to place a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "It was just the timing of it all. Napier had a good listing that had just come in and it matched what I told him we'd discussed. I set up an appointment for us to see him tomorrow, since Tommy wants to spend the day at the Kents' place and Daisy's going over to Edith's. You'll like him, I think. I only wanted you to meet him, but he said he'd get us in to see the place if you were amenable."

"We're in no rush though, are we?"

"Of course not," he assured her. "We don't even _have_ to move before February, but it would be easier if we did."

"I know."

"Say, did you talk to Anna about the farm, or just the baby?"

Elsie turned to head into the living room; he followed, snuggling up with her on the couch.

"Both. She was thrilled, about _all_ of it. Well, as thrilled as she can be, at any rate."

"So, no baby yet on that front?" he asked gently, shifting her so that he could pull her feet onto his lap and rub them.

"Ohh, thank you, love … that's wonderful … Um, no. No baby yet. Although I got the feeling it may have happened once, but …"

"Oh, no," he murmured, his face showing his sorrow. "And she'd not said anything about it before, surely?"

Elsie shook her head. "No, but it's not always the thing one talks about, really."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of that, not really knowing what to say.

They heard the screen door in the basement slam shut and two sets of feet come bounding up the stairs.

"They're all set!" Daisy called as she crested the top of the staircase. "I'm going to read."

"That's fine; thank you," Elsie said, smiling. "How about you, Tommy?"

The boy plopped down in the armchair, resting his feet on the coffee table. "I dunno," he shrugged. "Probably play a few video games before bed, I guess."

"What time are you expected at the Kents' tomorrow?" Charles asked.

"Um, ten, I think? If that's alright? I can ride my bike over if you like."

"No," Elsie said, "that should work fine. Daisy's due at Edith's around then; we'll just drop you off first."

"Thanks." He got up and headed to his room, grabbing a glass of water on the way.

Charles leaned over to whisper in Elsie's ear. "I can't wait to tell them."

"Neither can I. Because when we do, it'll mean this first hurdle is over, and that things are still progressing along as they should be, and that this baby is growing and healthy."

Charles turned the TV on and stumbled across a documentary he'd been waiting to see. He raised an eyebrow at Elsie, who just nodded as she maneuvered her body so that she was lying down, using his leg as a pillow.

"Fine by me," she said, yawning.

Charles rubbed his hand up and down her arm, hearing her sigh pleasantly just before she drifted off to sleep, the day's excitement and fresh air having caught up with her once again.

* * *

The following morning proved to be an easy one. The kids were up early and showered, each ready for a day away from the farm. Charles made breakfast with some help from Daisy, and Tommy tended to the horses while Elsie headed out to feed the chickens and collect any eggs that could be found.

On her way back in, Elsie saw John's car turn down the drive. She waited by the door for them; when John got out of the car, he made a beeline for her, and Elsie noted that Anna only waved and headed into the barn, presumably to distract Tommy.

John didn't even say anything, but he took the egg basket from Elsie and set it on the ground and then stood and gave her a huge hug.

"I am _so_ happy for you," he said to her, and she smiled as she squeezed him back.

"Thank you. I wasn't sure how you'd both feel, to be honest."

But John just shook his head. "Don't worry," he said confidently. "I keep telling Anna, sometimes it just takes time. She's so worked up about it, but I think that's making it harder."

"No doubt," Elsie said, taking up the basket again and taking John's arm as they headed into the house. "It certainly doesn't help."

"No," he mused. "Once, we thought … But, apparently not," he added sadly.

"I wondered about that," she said softly. "But it's not uncommon, either. It happens to almost a fifth of all pregnancies in this country, actually. One in ten worldwide."

"I didn't know that," John replied, astonished.

"Once upon a time, all I did was focus on those types of statistics," she cautioned. "Don't let Anna go down that road. Look, John, I don't mean to pry, but if you've been trying for a while -"

"Since we got married, but we weren't particularly careful before that," he admitted.

"Well, it often takes several months. If you come upon next Easter and there's still no sign, then consider speaking with her doctor. Up until then, _relax._ There's a lot to be said for exercise, diet, and rest."

"Thanks for that," John said, opening the front door for her. "Um, she did tell me about the house," he added quietly, aware that he'd not seen Daisy outside and assuming she was somewhere nearby.

"We'll chat about that later," Elsie said, "but it would make me so happy if it all worked out."

"We'll talk when you're ready," John said. "But I can tell you right now that we discussed it immediately; the answer is yes, if you're truly going to ask the question."

"Really?" Her face lit up as she turned to face him.

"How could we say no?" he asked. "This place? Elsie … It's perfect. A little slice of heaven."

She nodded, looking out the front window as Anna and Tommy put the horses out and hearing Charles and Daisy come in from the garden out back.

"Yes, it really is."

* * *

"Edith! Oh, my goodness!" Elsie gushed as she saw her dear friend.

"I know!" Edith laughed. "Hi, Uncle Charlie."

He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "How are you, my dear?"

"Besides enormous?"

"You look _radiant,_ Edith! And that baby is _low._ Are they sure you're due next month and not, oh, next _week?"_

"No," Edith admitted, and Elsie gasped. "We weren't really sure at first, and the further along we've gone, the more I'm convinced that this baby is _not_ staying in here another month. And we've hit all the typical milestones early."

"Well, don't let the girls run you ragged," Charles cautioned.

"No worries there, Uncle Charlie. Daisy's being here today is a blessing; Marigold's been stir-crazy this week, and Daisy will keep her out of my hair so that I can get some rest."

"Well, then, we'll pick her up in the morning," Elsie said. "Say hi to Bertie for us."

"Will do. Enjoy your day off," Edith said with a wink.

* * *

"Mr. Carson - hello. And you must be Mrs. Carson? Evelyn Napier, at your service."

Elsie took the realtor's proffered hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Napier."

"Evelyn, please," he said warmly. "I don't stand much on ceremony around here."

Elsie immediately felt at ease with the man, and she could see why Charlie liked him.

Evelyn brought them over to a comfortable sitting area in his office, where he'd set out a tray of refreshments.

"Tea?" he asked, and Elsie nodded.

"Please."

"Milk?"

"Yes," she smiled. "In first, if you don't mind."

He chuckled. "The proper way, according to my Auntie," he said. "I like you already, Mrs. Carson."

"Elsie, please."

He nodded, fixed the tea, and then handed a few file folders over to Charles.

"These are the properties that I think best fit your requirements," Evelyn said. "They're from a variety of towns and neighborhoods, and as you said price wasn't a concern …" he trailed off, and Elsie raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"It's not?"

"No," Charles said determinedly, looking at her over the rims of his reading glasses. "At least, not at the outset." He looked pointedly at Elsie, and she let him win that argument … for now.

 _We're only looking. It's only the first day,_ she told herself. _Time for_ _ **that**_ _discussion later … privately._

Charles handed Elsie a folder, which she opened as he lifted the cover of the second. There were five portfolios in total, and one of them was the property Charles had been shown the previous day. He didn't want to say anything about which it was, wanting to see which ones Elsie would be drawn to at first glance.

She passed one of the folders back to Evelyn almost immediately, not liking how far of a drive it would be to the farm. Charles also passed on one rather quickly, disliking the layout of the house; specifically, he didn't like that none of the bedrooms were on the first floor.

"I don't want us to _ever_ have to move again," he said to Elsie. "First floor bed and bath for our old age is a must."

She hummed her agreement, her eyes focused on the file in her lap, her lips parted in astonishment - both at the property, and at the _price._

Charles watched as she flipped through the photos of the home he'd fallen in love with the day before. He looked at her face as she stopped to stare at the seaside location, as she gasped softly at the enormous staircase that looked to be at the center of the house itself, as she smiled at the thought of having a bar downstairs, and as she let out a soft _ohh_ as she saw the photo of the sprawling property itself.

It was by far the most expensive listing, coming in at just over seven figures, but Evelyn had assured them that all of the sellers whose properties they were looking at today would entertain any and all offers, and that most of them were interested in finding the right _family_ as well as the right price.

"This is the one you saw yesterday," Elsie said softly, looking up at Charlie and smiling. "I'm sure of it."

He inclined his head toward her. "It is, indeed," he admitted. "And now you see why I loved it."

"I do," she said hesitantly, and he saw her eyes flick to the price again.

Fortunately, so did Evelyn. "Would you both mind if I left you for a moment? I have a call I need to make to another client, and if I do that now then I can be sure _she_ won't call _me_ while we're out and about."

"We don't mind at all," Charles assured him. "Take your time."

He nodded and left, and Charles took the folder from Elsie's hands and laid it on the table.

"Elsie," he began, tilting her chin up so that he could plant a light kiss on her lips. "Please, just listen to me for a minute, alright?"

She swallowed, nodding reluctantly.

"I know we've discussed this, but perhaps not sufficiently," he began. "I retired from an extremely successful career as an attorney. I sold the firm for more than the asking price of this house, and I've saved and invested wisely over the past twenty-five years. I also sold the London house before moving here. Daisy is set for the future, because the money from the sale of Alice's company is in a trust for her, and Tommy has the trust that was established with Laura's life insurance benefit. We can afford this, Elsie. Truly."

"But it would be _your_ investment, mostly. _Your_ contributions. I mean, I can certainly put money towards it, but nothing like that," she said, waving her hand at the folder.

"I have an idea," he said gently, taking her hand.

She squeezed it, then laced her fingers through his. "I thought you might," she replied - half exasperated, half curious.

Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it as he continued.

"I couldn't sleep last night," he admitted. "Too much of this running through my mind. Figured I'd do best to get up and put it all down on paper so I'd get some rest after clearing my head.

"See here," he said, pointing to the first column. "This is what I think we should offer, and what I'd plan to put down, which is the amount I received from the sale of the London place - which, I'll point out now, was particularly well-invested over the past fifteen months."

She nodded, but said nothing.

"Then here is what the monthly payments would be - for a twenty-year note, not a thirty." He pointed to the next column, and she gulped loudly.

"Charlie," she said. "That's outrageous."

"Except it's not," he countered, "because the rest of my investments - and undoubtedly yours - are earning more than the three percent rate we'd pay on the mortgage, and so it's actually better to not pay for the entire thing in full."

"No, that's not what I meant," she said. "The _payment_ is insane!"

"Just hear me out," he pleaded. "See here? This last column is all of our expenses. You can cover those with what you're making now, with the money that's just from your school salary and not from the farm. The farm I didn't even take into account, because it's what you use for Becky's care. But if Anna starts working there full-time offering lessons, as you talked about a few months ago, then that income will undoubtedly go up as well."

She nodded once again, trying to keep her protests in until he was finished.

"And this," he finished, "is what I think we could reasonably rent the farm out for."

"Okay," she said hesitantly. "Back to this," she said, pointing to the monthly payment. "And this," she added, pointing to the expenses. "They total more than I'm comfortable with."

"Because you're thinking in terms of splitting those numbers evenly, whereas I am not," he said. He pulled out a pen and jotted a number down on the paper.

"That's my monthly income, if I choose to take it. I've not chosen to draw that much out yet, because I haven't needed it. If I take even 80% of that, which would basically be the mortgage payment, your income will more than cover all of the household expenses, including winter heating costs _and_ bumping up the food budget to account for two teenagers."

He looked at her seriously. "I make more than you do, Elsie, because I've been fortunate. It makes no sense to split our contributions evenly when our incomes aren't even. I'm sorry, and I don't mean anything negative by that, but it's the truth. You've worked so very hard your entire life for what you have, and so have I. And now I'm retired, and doing consulting on the side, and I want to do this. I want to do it for _us."_

She took a deep breath; as she was gathering her thoughts, she spied another figure on the side of the paper.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing to it.

He smiled. "That's the consulting money," he said softly. "Or, as I'm now thinking of it … the baby fund." He set the paper on the table.

Elsie looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm … overwhelmed. By all of this. By _you._ It's a lot to take in."

He squeezed her hand again and nodded. "I know," he said. "But the bottom line is this, Elsie: I've worked hard in order to get to where I am, and have been exceptionally fortunate over my career. We can afford to buy whichever of these homes we want _and_ continue to put aside for Daisy, Tommy, and this new little one, too."

He rested his hand on her abdomen, a deep-seated desire in his heart to feel the baby moving. _Soon,_ he told himself.

She laid her hand on top of his and a tear managed to escape her eye; he leaned forward quickly, and kissed it from her cheek, then rested their foreheads together.

"No decisions for at least a month," she said. "We look around, and we tell the kids, and we think about all of this. We don't _need_ the most expensive house on the planet, Charles."

"No, we don't," he agreed. "But if we're never moving again, I want the one we love the most."

"Fair enough."

Just then, Evelyn came back into the room.

"All set?" he asked, and Charles nodded.

"We are," he said, standing up and then offering his hand to Elsie. "Well? Shall we go see a house?"

"Oh, why not?" she replied with a laugh.

"Excellent," Evelyn said with a smile. "You're going to love it, you know."

"Oh," Elsie laughed, "I know."

* * *

 _ **TBC - Please leave a little review if you are willing/able!**_


	52. Never Gonna Be Alone

**A/N: Thanks to the amazing dameofdownstairs for the artwork for this chapter! If you're not on tumblr, Google my tumblr (chelsiesouloftheabbey) and check it out! Many thanks as well to brenna-louise, who not only faithfully betas this story but who also came up with the idea for the Halloween inspiration. This fandom is full of caring and generous friends and I am truly grateful for ALL their support. Special shout-out to the BIMP in charge, who I know loves the baby bump in that pic. :)**

 **This chapter covers about two and a half months' worth of time ... little snippets, in which we tell the kids about the baby, see more of the house (also on tumblr), and have a bit of Halloween fun. Please leave a little review to let me know what you've thought. Song choice: "Never Gonna Be Alone," by Nickelback. I know, not my usual style.**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 ** _You're never gonna be alone,_** ** _from this moment on_**

 ** _If you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall_**

 _ **You're never gonna be alone, I'll hold you 'til the hurt is gone ...**_

* * *

 _ **August 15, 2015**_

"You're _pregnant?"_

The look on Daisy's face was incredulous, as though she couldn't quite comprehend the words.

"But … But … Papa, you said you and Elsie _weren't_ having a baby! You said … You said you weren't _ready!"_

"What? Charlie, what is she talking about?"

Elsie's confused question reminded Daisy that she and her Papa weren't the only people in the room. Embarrassed, she jumped off the couch and ran into her room, almost slamming the door behind her and thereby angering her father.

"Daisy!"

Elsie reached her hand over to his arm, holding him firmly in place. "Don't," she advised. "Not now."

Charles looked at her incredulously. "That kind of behavior is unacceptable," he whispered. The stern hardness of his voice, despite the whispered volume of it, frightened Tommy, who sat across from Charles and was attempting to assess this precarious atmosphere in which they now found themselves. "And I only said that when she asked about it in England. You remember ..."

"Ah, yes," Elsie said, understanding at once. "Alright."

"I'll talk to her," Tommy said evenly, his eyes examining Elsie with something akin to curiosity.

"Thank you, Tommy." Elsie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, and Tommy noticed.

"Elsie? Are you ... happy?" he asked suddenly.

She tilted her head and looked at him, then nodded.

"I am, yes," she said quietly. "I … I'd been led to believe that this would never be a possibility for me; so it's been rather a shock, but a welcome one."

"This doesn't mean we care about you or Daisy any less," Charles added, his voice a quiet rumble as he attempted to calm himself. "It's important to us that you know that."

Tommy nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as his eyes flicked back and forth from Charles to Elsie.

"I knew something was up," he said to Elsie. "You weren't yourself, really."

Elsie smiled at him, acknowledging the truth in his statement with a raised eyebrow. "I know you did. We needed to wait to tell you, but I knew you were aware that things weren't … well, _normal."_

Tommy's brow furrowed. "Why did you need to wait?" And then he saw the sadness flit across her eyes and quickly added, "I'm sorry. It's none of my business, I suppose."

"No, it's alright," she replied, silencing anything Charles might say with another squeeze to his forearm.

Elsie took a deep breath and swallowed, thinking of the most simplistic way to explain it all.

"I was married before; once … a long time ago. He died suddenly, in a car accident, much like Daisy's mother."

Tommy nodded; he knew this already. Daisy had mentioned it, but she'd said Elsie never talked about the man whose picture sat on the shelf in the bookcase, tucked between a few knuck-knacks. He'd examined it once but had never wanted to ask about it. Daisy told him it _used_ to be over the fireplace, where the photo of them at the school play now resided.

"His name was Joe," Elsie explained. "We wanted a baby very much, but it just didn't seem like it would happen. At one point I _was_ pregnant, four months along; however, I had an accident at work, and we lost the baby, and it just … never happened again. Sometimes, for some women, it's just very difficult; it's common to have a miscarriage in the first three months, and the truth is that I didn't want to tell people that Charles and I would be having a baby if there was a chance that I'd have to go back and … and tell them we weren't."

"That's happened to Jimmy's mum," Tommy said quietly.

"Has it? I didn't know that," Elsie remarked softly, somewhat surprised that she'd never heard. Stories travel fast in Misty Cove, as she well knew.

"Twice," Tommy added. "Jimmy said his mum always wanted a girl, but …" He stopped, not wanting to make Elsie sad. It was a tricky conversation, he knew; this wasn't the sort of thing parents would talk about with younger kids, and he was proud that Elsie was telling _him._

"So, here we are," Charles offered. "The baby is due in February. In that time, we need to be prepared; Elsie needs to get a good amount of rest, primarily because as the baby grows it will put pressure on her back again," he said, looking at Elsie, who smiled and nodded for him to continue. "And, we'll need to move."

"Wow," Tommy whispered. "That's a lot."

"It is, and I'm sorry about the timing. You've already _been_ through a lot," Elsie said sympathetically.

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm the least of your concerns," Tommy said wryly, shooting a glance at Daisy's room.

"That's not true at all," Charles said. "Elsie and I have _one_ main 'concern,' as you labeled it, and that's simply called _children. Your_ worries and thoughts are no less valued than Daisy's in our eyes, and neither of you count any more or any less than this baby we happen to have on the way."

"We've not forgotten about November," Elsie added. "Come hell or high water, we _will_ be at Adoption Day, and we _will_ still become your legal parents … if you still want that, of course."

"Yeah, I do," he smiled, getting off the sofa. "Right, then. I'm going to go and talk to Daisy."

"Thank you," Charles said, and he and Elsie watched as Tommy left the room.

As soon as the door to Daisy's room closed, Elsie got up and stood before Charles, prying his knees apart with her leg to get closer and grasping his face in her hands before leaning down and kissing him fiercely.

"What was _that_ for?" he asked after their lips parted.

She carded her fingers through his hair, shaking her head as she looked at him with tear-filled eyes.

"'Elsie and I have one main 'concern,' and that's simply called _children,'"_ she repeated, her voice thick with emotion. "'Neither of you count any more or any less than this baby.' Charles Carson, I think I loved you more in that one moment than I ever have before. Oh, you dear, dear man," she whispered, wiping at her tears with the back of her fingers.

"Well," he rumbled, "it's true, isn't it?"

She kissed him again, and then he wrapped his arms around her as she hugged his head to her chest.

"It is," she agreed.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Misty Cove PD. Willis here."

"It's Elsie," she'd said without preamble. "It's been a week. What the hell's going on?"

"God, I don't even know, Elsie. Like I told you last week, O'Brien withdrew her confession, which we heard about through the DA's office because she's gotten a lawyer. It seems that they want an official statement from you - a deposition, which we can do here at the station - but they're dragging their feet something awful."

"But why? What do they think I could possibly say to _help_ them?"

"Our understanding is that they're going to enter a plea of "not guilty by reason of mental illness."

"Oh, I see." Elsie had been quiet for a moment, and Willis hadn't been sure whether or not she was still on the line.

"Elsie?" he'd asked after a few moments. "Are you still with me?"

"I am," she'd said determinedly. "And if they think I'm going to make a statement that Sarah O'Brien is completely unstable, they've got another thing coming!"

"They're going to ask about the letter," he'd reminded her. "And about what you know of the fire."

"But I don't have direct knowledge about the fire, except what I've heard. Isn't that inadmissible or something? What do they call that? Hearsay?"

"Perhaps. But ... Elsie? Get an attorney, if you can, just as a precaution. And not your husband, either. Doesn't look good."

"I shall," she'd said determinedly. "And don't worry. If they want me to talk about Sarah O'Brien, then what they'll get is an earful of how perfectly sane she was for ninety-five percent of the time I knew the woman. Showed up to work on time, never out sick, meticulous with her planning, and a very successful teacher despite the fact that she didn't particularly seem to _like_ the children. When do they want me to come in?"

"Probably next week, if that gives you enough time. Someone from the DA's office will be here and get your statement, and her attorney will be here, too, and will get to question you afterwards. Hopefully that's all you'll have to do. The deposition will be admitted as evidence, so let's hope you don't have to go in and testify during the actual trial. Does that all make sense?"

"It does."

"Okay, then I'll call you when we have a date, and _you_ get an attorney … just in case."

"Got it. Thanks. I know I was short with you before, but I do appreciate your looking out for me."

"No problem, Elsie. Just sit tight and we'll be in touch."

"Alright."

* * *

 _ **September 13, 2015**_

"Why are we going out to lunch?" Daisy asked from the back seat. "We always go home after church."

"Actually, we have an appointment," Charles replied, turning onto the main road and leaving the church parking lot - still rather full - behind them. "And _then_ we're going to lunch."

As he headed over to the shoreline, he glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw Daisy's furrowed brow.

"An appointment? Where? Like at the doctor's?"

"No," Elsie explained patiently. "We're going to see the house, actually."

Tommy looked over toward Daisy and shook his head silently.

 _Don't,_ his face said.

Daisy just pursed her lips and clenched her teeth, turning back to the book she was reading.

She was very angry at the thought of leaving the farm and had been giving her Papa and Elsie a hard time about it every time they brought it up. She'd been reprimanded once by each adult and had lost television privileges one evening for being rude, and Tommy was trying to keep her quiet now so that the ride to see the new house wouldn't be completely unbearable.

Tommy understood why she was upset; after all, if anyone understood change, it was Tommy Barrow. But he was older, and he had a different perspective. Tommy knew that they'd be moving no matter _what_ the kids said, for two reasons: first, he had realized immediately that there wasn't enough _room_ for another kid to be living on the farm, and second, he knew Charles and Elsie had found a place that they were absolutely in love with. One necessity, one wish … So nothing Daisy said out of anger or spite would serve to do anything except get her into more trouble.

He'd tried to explain that to her last night ... again; Daisy hadn't cared.

"I won't go in," she'd told him.

"Fine, stay in the car," he'd shrugged - just before he'd walked out of her room, having left her there to think about just what she might be missing by doing just that.

And now, as he sat and noticed that she was gripping her book so tightly that her knuckles were white, he wondered if she'd follow through.

But once Charles turned onto the small street where the house sat, Tommy saw Daisy look up from her book, and he heard her gasp.

"Wow," Tommy breathed, unbuckling his seatbelt as Charles put the car in park. "Holy …"

"Yes, it's quite something, isn't it?" Elsie beamed, turning to look at the kids. She noticed Daisy staring out at the ocean and hoped they could coax her into at least going in to see what the house looked like. She and Charles had been by two weeks previous, and after that visit (their second), they'd submitted an offer; it had been accepted within four hours, with the contingency that they not close until November, giving the current owners time to finish and move into their new home.

They hadn't told the kids, and were both silently praying that Tommy and Daisy would fall in love with the house today.

Tommy was the first out of the car, and he practically ran up to the porch steps. He stopped when a man stood up from the chair he'd been in, its height and the wall of the porch meaning the man had been hidden up to that point.

"Hello there, you must be Tommy."

The man held out his hand and Tommy shook it, nodding.

"And you are …?"

"Evelyn Napier. I'm the realtor."

"Evelyn?" Tommy asked, the corner of his mouth and an eyebrow quirking up.

But Evelyn was used to it and simply rolled his eyes a bit. "Yes, _Evelyn._ Mums … sometimes they don't think much when they name their kids."

Tommy laughed, and then turned as he heard Elsie and Charles behind him; and, behind them, Daisy.

 _Thank goodness,_ he thought, and he made his way to her side while the adults chatted.

"You didn't stay," he said, half-teasing her.

"No," she grumbled, kicking her heel into the grass. "It was hot in the car."

"Uh-huh," he said, chuckling. "Okay."

"I wanna see it," she admitted quietly. "I don't suppose we get a say anyways."

"I doubt it," Tommy said. "Look at the bright side: it's still in Misty Cove. We don't have to switch schools. Besides, Daisy, it's on the _ocean._ Can you imagine being able to play and explore on the beach every day?"

"Yeah, that _would_ be cool," she admitted. "Come on, they're going in."

Daisy and Tommy headed up to the front door, and stopped suddenly when they got inside.

"Wow," Daisy said, and her voice echoed up the huge staircase. "This is … big."

"Well," Charles said, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her an encouraging squeeze, "we need a lot of rooms. I need an office, and none of you should have to share your room if that's possible … which it would be, here. You and Tommy will actually be mostly alone upstairs … your own space, sort of."

"Really?"

"Mm-hm. My office would be up there, but Elsie and I will have our room downstairs, and the nursery will be next to it."

"So we're definitely moving here."

Charles gently guided her back out onto the porch, his eyes silently telling Elsie to move on ahead with Evelyn and Tommy. He sat on the front steps, and he motioned for Daisy to sit beside him.

"Daisy, tell me what's wrong," he said kindly. "You're so very upset about this. Now, I know it's been a lot for you. We moved to Misty Cove, then from the beach to the farm, and now this. It's a lot to have happen in such a short time."

She nodded. "Yeah, it is. But, Papa, I _love_ the farm. _Elsie_ loves the farm. It just seems wrong for us to leave. And I don't want to."

Her eyes welled up, and Charles imagined he could feel the upset pouring off of her.

"Elsie's not _selling_ the farm, Daisy. It will still belong to the family."

"Wait. She's _not?"_

"No," he said slowly, his brow furrowed. "We told you two the other night that John and Anna would be moving in and … ah, wait, that's right. I'm not sure we actually specified that they'd only be _renting_ and not _buying_ the house, did we?"

Daisy's face brightened a bit as she wiped at her eyes. "Nope. So we can still be there whenever we want?"

"Well, within reason, yes. Elsie will be the owner still, and will still be working there, as will the rest of us when she needs us to help out. And you can go riding like you've been doing. Anna will be able to do more lessons and so the place will be busier - more kids and such, especially over the summer - but, yes, we will be able spend a good deal of time there."

Daisy scooted over closer to her father, and he put his arm around her and kissed her on the head.

"I miss Mummy," she said suddenly.

"I know you do, sweetheart," he replied in a whisper.

"I wish I could tell her about Misty Cove … about my teachers, and Tommy. Even about Elsie. But then I wonder if she'd be angry, and I wouldn't want her to be upset."

"Oh, petal, she wouldn't be angry," he said. "I like to think she'd be happy that _you're_ happy."

Daisy was quiet for a few moments, then quietly asked, "We wouldn't have come here if she hadn't died, would we?"

He didn't answer right away, and she prodded him after a moment. "Papa? Would we have moved if Mummy hadn't died?"

"I'm not sure," he finally answered. "Probably not, no. Do you wish we hadn't?"

But Daisy shook her head almost frantically. "Oh, no. I love it here. And we'd never have met Elsie, and Tommy could never have lived with us. But …"

He squeezed her tightly, wrapping her in both of his arms and pulling her onto his lap, making her giggle.

"But you miss her. It's perfectly alright for you to miss her; I'm sure you always _will,_ although it gets different as time goes on. Do you know what you should do?"

She shook her head, looking into his soft, hazel eyes. "What?"

"You should write her letters," Charles said encouragingly. "As many as you want. And we can put them someplace special and then bring them with us when we go back to visit Uncle Robert and Aunt Cora. When we go to the cemetery, we can read them to her. Do you know that I bring Tommy by the cemetery in Misty Cove quite often to talk with _his_ Mum?"

"Yeah, he told me," she said. "He said you stay in the car most of the time, and it's just him and his Mummy."

"I do, and so it is. And you can always talk to _your_ Mummy, too. It doesn't have to be letters and it doesn't have to happen in England. Go for a walk in the field with Max and just … talk." He tapped her on the nose with his knuckle and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm sure she is watching over you, love. I bet you Mummy is always there with you, and I _know_ she's so proud of you for finding your voice again."

Daisy smiled up at him, then kissed his cheek. "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, petal."

They turned at the sound of the door opening behind them.

"There you two are," Elsie said, coming to sit beside them. Her eyes widened when Daisy slid off of her father's lap and snuggled in beside Elsie instead.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't know you were _keeping_ the farm."

"But we … _ohh,_ my goodness," Elsie said, looking at Charles, who was shaking his head.

"We could have made that _much_ clearer," he confirmed. "Yes. I'm sure Tommy has the same misunderstanding about it all."

"But he's happy, anyhow," Daisy said. "He's happy we'll be on the ocean; he loves it."

"Does he?" Elsie asked, reaching up to straighten Daisy's ponytail. "You two talk about quite a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, we do," Daisy said. "It's nice to have a big brother, and Tommy said it's usually nice to have a little sister, too."

"Well," Elsie said quietly, "pretty soon _you'll_ have a little sister or brother as well. Are you going to be alright with that?"

Daisy looked up at Elsie's face and saw the nervousness, the apprehension that maybe Daisy really hated the idea of having a baby on the way.

"I'm sorry," Daisy whispered, her eyes filling up with tears again. "I was so mean to you."

"Oh, Daisy, it's alright for you to be upset. You've had so many things that are new in your life lately. I'm sure you feel like every time you turn around, something is different."

Daisy nodded, sniffling. "Yeah, but this is a really _good_ thing," she said. "Isn't it?"

"It is," Charles said. "And we'll need your help. And Tommy's."

"Really?"

"Oh, of course," Elsie added. "You can help feed the baby, and as he or she grows you can help us teach him or her to walk, and to read, and even to ride the horses one day."

Daisy smiled. "Okay."

"Come on, then," Charles said, groaning a bit as he got up from the steps. "I think we've lost Tommy, and I want Daisy to be able to see her room."

"It looks out over the water," Elsie said, and Daisy's eyes brightened instantly.

"Really?"

Elsie laughed. "Really." She leaned in and added in a whisper, "And so does your _bathtub."_

* * *

 _ **Mid-October, 2015**_

Edith delivered a healthy baby boy on the sixteenth of September, which was about two weeks prior to her assigned due date. Peter Robert Pelham weighed in at a hefty eight pounds even, and Edith was quite grateful indeed that her pregnancy had not gone a day longer. She was in hospital for just a day and a half, having elected to return home as soon as possible. The plan had been for her to be out until the end of October, with various staff (namely Phyllis and Elsie) assuming her duties in lieu of bringing someone in from outside - someone who would undoubtedly be unfamiliar with the school itself.

Thankfully, Edith had suspected for quite a while that her baby would be arriving early, and she'd pulled her two closest friends in for a meeting about a week before Peter was born. They'd set up a system of responsibilities that all three were comfortable with, and Edith had reminded them she would only be a phone call away. If parents needed to be called in, then Phyllis would handle the case from that point forward; she had administrative credentials, and Elsie did not. Elsie would take over the building-centered jobs: dealing with scheduling, facilitating staff meetings, and generally making sure that things continued to operate like a well-oiled machine. When the time had come, Elsie and Phyllis were prepared, and daily meetings between them before and after school made things move along fairly well.

All of this meant, of course, that Elsie was completely exhausted at the end of each day. She had the help of various staff members, and Phyllis was managing most of the busier work, but if Phyllis was busy counseling students or managing meetings then it was up to Elsie to keep the ship afloat. And even with everyone chipping in as much as possible, it sometimes wasn't quite enough, and Elsie was in danger of overdoing it.

"You need to be careful," Charles warned Elsie one night, and she nodded, slightly exasperated with him for nagging her again but knowing his heart was in the right place. They were relaxing on the couch, some movie on the television that neither of them were really watching.

"I know, but- "

"But nothing," he interrupted. "You're going to make yourself sick; your blood pressure, Elsie … you have to cut down on the stress."

She blew her bangs off of her forehead, frustrated. "I do realize that," she admitted, remembering back a month to when she'd gone in to see Willis for her deposition. She'd felt awful the following weekend, and her next doctor's appointment had confirmed that her blood pressure had been up a bit. She'd managed to rectify it, but not before receiving stern warnings from Charles, Richard, and Isobel.

"Look, Edith is coming in for an hour a day starting tomorrow; she feels well, and Bertie will be home to allow her to schedule it. That should help."

As though he'd been reading her mind, Charles asked, "Any word from Willis?"

"No, not yet, but I think that's a good sign."

She sat back, tucked up against Charlie's side, and sighed.

"I guess I'll find out soon enough," she said with a yawn. "I stressed that, up until the day I received the strange note, I had nothing but professional interactions with the woman. She was organized and meticulous about her job, if not personable, and I'd never have expected her to have done anything like this."

"Which may actually _help_ their case of mental instability," Charles reasoned. "Either way, she'll be locked up in one facility or another for a very, very long time."

He'd heard it all before, of course, but the more Elsie explained it, the more he hoped that his prediction would come true. It was high time they moved on with their lives, without the spectre that was Sarah O'Brien popping in and out all the time.

* * *

 _ **October 31, 2015**_

Elsie heard Charles grumbling behind her, and she turned to adjust his … well, _fur._

"There we go," she said sweetly, kissing his cheek on the only non-made-up spot she could find. "You look marvelous, love."

"I look like a fool. May as well have been the scarecrow …"

"Oh, hush, you," she admonished with a smile, "or you'll sound like the tin man instead. And if you're feeling badly, then look at _me._ If _this_ costume isn't insulting, I don't know what is. I tell you, really. I could have been the _nice_ one. But we let the kids decide, and it's their night, so come on!"

"I suppose. This is bloody itchy, though. I'm glad the temperatures have dropped."

"Count yourself lucky," Elsie said in a sing-song voice as she turned and gathered up her black skirt to make her way down the hallway. "Some years it _snows_ on Halloween."

They waited in the kitchen for the kids to finish getting into costume, and Charles turned when he heard Elsie's chuckle from beside him.

"There's my little sidekick," she laughed, and Tommy looked up with a scowl. "Oh, no," she added quickly. "Do you hate it?"

But then the boy laughed, and she relaxed. "Nah," he said with a smirk, "just playing the part. I love being the evil thing from it all." And he promptly raised his arms - and, with them, his monkey wings - and proceeded to chase Daisy around the room.

"Stop!" she shrieked, laughing, and Max jumped up and barked at them.

"Oh, come here, Max; you've lost your costume." She reached down and adjusted Max's new "fur" - a darker, Toto-colored version. "There," she said with a firm nod. "That should work."

"Are we all ready then, Dorothy?" Tommy asked. She nodded, and Charles came over with a basket and a pillow case.

"Ah, excellent," Tommy nodded. "Much better than those dumb plastic pumpkins."

Daisy looked confused, and he explained: "These hold more."

"Don't forget- " Charles started to say, but Daisy cut him off.

"Yeah, we know, Papa," she said with a roll of the eyes, and she and Tommy said in unison, "You get all the Crunch bars!"

Elsie just looked up at him and laughed. "I think, my dear, that _I_ should get first pick of the candy." She patted her small but visible belly and added, "You know … eating for two and all."

"I wouldn't dream of touching _your_ candy," he promised. "I'd be homeless before Thanksgiving."

"True," she acknowledged. "Besides, if you do, my monkey will attack you."

As they made their way to the car, Charles pulled Elsie closer for a quick kiss. The kids turned and saw them, then just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"We'll just be in the car," Tommy called to them. "You know … waiting for Halloween."

Elsie broke away from her husband and wiped a bit of green paint from his nose.

"Cheeky little things, aren't they?" she chuckled, and he agreed.

"They are, but they're _our_ cheeky little things," he said. "Come on; the Masons are waiting."

* * *

 **Shameless plug: There's a summer fundraiser starting up to support Hearts and Minds, the charity in Scotland for which Phyllis Logan has become the honorary "Flora Elderflower." One aspect of H &M's work is to send Elderflowers - entertainers and carers - to people suffering from various forms of dementia, in order to give them a bit of cheer. Over the course of the summer, let's fundraise to show our support of Phyllis and this cause that she holds dear. Check tumblr and search the blog "heartsandminds4flora" and give it a follow! If you're not on tumblr, feel free to PM me for details. (Just go to my author page and click "PM" and you can send a private message, in order to keep it separate from the reviews for this story.) Donations, messages, even a pic of you raising a glass in support of the cause - all will be welcomed, collected, collated, and sent to Hearts and Minds in September. Please consider joining us - every ** **£, $, and** ** **€ - or what have you -** counts!  
**

 **Thanks much! xxx**


	53. Stars Holding the Moon

**A/N: Well, kiddies, we're back. Huge hugs to brenna-louise for all her work beta-reading this story. Thanks to dibdab4 for allowing me to reinvent something she tackled in "Uncovering Love" - have you read that? If not, you really should. A-MA-ZING fic.**

 **Shout-out to all of you who continue to love this story, from my "#1 fan" to the ones who pop in and out. I read and love every review, and I particularly want to acknowledge all of the guest reviewers to whom I cannot write back. To that end: Yes, I wish Charles were MY financial manager, too. However, to be fair, the guy sold a house and two businesses within one year of each other; he's good to go. Also, a few of you have asked about Miss Stephanie. She's no longer Daisy's teacher and so we may not see her again, but please rest assured that she's living a happy, quiet life in Misty Cove. :) I love that you loved her and that you're interested in her future.**

 **Please enjoy this mostly FLUFFY chapter. It covers a few weeks in November, and you can presume that each snippet between the lined cuts is a different day. Song inspiration is from my daughter, who's been asking me FOREVER to find a place for this song; Downton is MY fangirling thing, but Miley Cyrus is hers. It's a lovely song; check it out on my Spotify or just Google it.**

 **When you've finished, please leave a little review if you're so inclined. Thanks!**

 **xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **When my world is falling apart**_

 _ **When there's no light to break up the dark**_

 _ **That's when I, I ... I look at you.**_

 _ **When the waves are flooding the shore**_

 _ **And I can't find my way home any more**_

 _ **That's when I, I ... I look at you.**_

 _ **When I look at you, I see forgiveness**_

 _ **I see the truth:**_

 _ **You love me for who I am**_

 _ **Like the stars hold the moon**_

 _ **Right there where they belong**_

 _ **And I know I'm not alone.**_

 **~Miley Cyrus, "When I Look At You"**

* * *

 ** _November, 2015_**

Charles hummed in his half-asleep state, the remnants of a _very_ lovely dream floating through his mind. He groaned as he imagined Elsie's hands upon him and then gasped into wakefulness as he realized he was no longer dreaming.

"El-" he began, but she silenced him with her fingers on his lips; he reacted with a speed that seemed unnatural given his grogginess and nipped her fingertip, making her smile brightly.

"Shh," she warned, tilting her head toward the door. "I think one of them was up a while ago, getting a drink of water."

"Did you lock the door?" he murmured, and she nodded.

"Yes, of course. So just stay quiet."

She pushed his t-shirt up and trailed kisses over his torso. But when she moved a bit further down, slipping her hands under the waistband of his pants, he laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Wait," he said. "Come back up here with me. Please."

She playfully trailed her fingernails up his torso as she did as he asked, lying on her side and facing him as he sat up and removed his shirt. He leaned over and kissed her sweetly, then trailed his lips to the soft spot behind her ear followed by the smooth skin on her collarbone, sliding aside the strap of her nightgown as he did so.

"Charlie," she whispered - a warning, albeit slight - as he cupped her breast. "Don't. Please." She reached her hand up and placed it over his, stopping him.

"Why not?" he asked, moving his hand to cup her bottom instead as he trailed kisses over to her shoulder.

She pushed him away a bit, and saw the hurt expression on his face. "I … I'm sorry, Charlie."

He sighed a bit and looked at her curiously. "What is it, Elsie? You've not let me touch you for almost three weeks. Are you uncomfortable? I know I've been a bit crabby lately with the stress of the house and all, but …" He gave a nervous laugh. "I hope you're not going off me."

Her eyes widened. "No! Oh, good heavens, is that what you think?" She sat up and waved a hand in the air, indicating her body. "Look at me, Charlie. It's … Well, it's not very appealing, is it? I'm swelling up and getting stretch marks. I'm getting fat, my skin is splotchy … Trust me, you're better off not seeing it all just now."

He sat straight up and looked down at her, reaching for her hand and taking it gently in his.

"Are you serious? Do you truly think that I'll find you … wanting, somehow? Unattractive?"

She nodded, biting on her lip.

Charles swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He glanced at the clock - _Just gone five,_ he noted with relief, _no way those kids are up_ \- and coaxed Elsie to come and stand, her legs between his knees; she obeyed silently, looking at him curiously.

Charles rested his hands on her hips and placed a kiss to her abdomen - above where the baby lay - allowing his forehead to rest on her breastbone for a moment. When he pulled his head back, Elsie saw that his eyes were damp.

"Charlie?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, Elsie," he said, his voice thick, "my beautiful, _beautiful_ wife. How could you _ever_ think I'd find you wanting?"

"But all of the- "

"All of the things you mentioned," he said, silencing her with his raised eyebrows and expressive eyes, "are part of what is making you more and more _remarkable_ every day. They're all part of this amazing, wonderful miracle, this baby that neither of us ever expected or dared to hope for. Every mark on your body, every change, every extra pound, is there because you are giving of yourself for this most precious gift. How on _earth_ could I ever find that _not_ beautiful?"

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. "It's not, I can assure you," she insisted.

"It _is,"_ he argued, sliding his hands up the back of her thighs and squeezing her hips. He brushed his fingertips over her belly, and she giggled when it tickled.

"I don't believe you," she said.

"Well," he said, lifting the hem of her nightgown a bit. "Perhaps I can show you."

She opened her mouth to deny him, but then closed it again before saying anything.

"If you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. But please, Elsie, don't shut me out because you think I'll find you ... less of yourself, somehow. I could _never_ think that."

He tugged on the hem again; after a few seconds she nodded, and he lifted the nightie over her head and discarded it to the floor. His mouth opened a bit and he gasped, shaking his head at how _marvelous_ she looked to him.

"Beautiful," he murmured, and he gently reached his hands up to cup her breasts, kissing them gently and sighing with relief as her head tipped back again, a hum of desire escaping her lips.

"Come here," he said again, scooting back on the bed. He extended his hand and she took it, kneeling beside him and running her hands up and down his torso once again.

"I love you so much, Charlie," she marveled, watching her fingers as they trailed through the hair on his chest. "Sometimes I can't even express it. And it rarely occurs to me that you might feel the same."

"But you know I do," he said. "Somewhere, in your heart, you know it."

She nodded. "I do, because you're so wonderful about reminding me all the time."

He sat up to kiss her, a long, lingering, deep kiss, and then she pushed him back on the pillows.

"Off," she said, flicking a finger toward his pajama bottoms; he readily complied, his eyes widening as he wondered what, precisely, she had planned.

She chuckled as she stretched her leg out to straddle him, sitting back on his thighs as she caressed him with her soft hands.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly, his breath staggered as she continued to touch him.

"Doesn't look like we have much choice now," she said, motioning to her stomach. "I expect you must remember that, though," she smirked, knowing how much he loved it like this.

But he just shook his head noncommittally as he reached out and placed his hands on her legs. He massaged them lightly as she raised herself up; she leaned down to meet him as he stretched his upper body toward her. Their lips met as he joined them slowly, carefully, catching her deep moan with his mouth and effectively silencing her.

She watched him watch _her_ as she slowly moved over him; eventually, however, she had to close her eyes, her desire climbing as he moved deep within her, her head now thrown back. She reached her hands out blindly and he caught them in his own, lacing their fingers together as she squeezed, tightly, and lost herself to him once again.

* * *

"It's a miracle that we barely made a sound," she said later, lying on her side as he cradled her in his arms from behind.

"I know," he chuckled, his lips and tongue gently kissing her shoulder, back, and the top of her arm. "I'm rather proud of that, actually. God, Els, please don't make me wait another three weeks before we can do this again."

"Well, once this baby comes, you'll _have_ to wait," she teased. "Surely you _remember_ all of this, Charlie? I swear, sometimes you make me forget you've ever been through this all before. The necessary _accommodations,_ shall we call them? Fewer _positions_ available? I'm sure _you_ didn't mind, though," she laughed.

"Certainly not," he agreed, waggling his eyebrows. "Watching my gorgeous wife hovering above me? That, my dear, is just about perfect."

"And all the … well, the _afterward_ things we'll have to look forward to, such as they are. I'm not sure what to expect at all, really, and I'm counting on you to help me here."

"We're learning together, love," he mumbled.

She turned in his arms. "What do you mean?" she asked, her brow wrinkled.

"I've ... not been through all of this, really … not exactly," he said haltingly. "Not in the way you think I have. Alice ... well, she didn't want me near her when she was pregnant," he said. "But it doesn't matter. I don't want to talk about her, or that time. Not now … not _here,_ not when I have these precious moments with you before the day gets busy and noisy and full of kids."

"You poor thing," she said softly, caressing his cheek with her thumb before placing a chaste kiss to his lips. "But you're so … " _Loving, caring, amazing,_ her mind was filling in, but she stopped speaking; he'd said he'd rather not discuss it, and she wanted to respect his wishes.

 _For now,_ she thought.

He kissed her forehead and pushed her back over onto her other side, gently, wrapped her up in his arms again, and intertwined his legs with hers.

"I've only ever been this way with you," he said. "Only you."

She hummed a reply, and smiled as she felt him relax behind her, the weight of his arm heavier as he drifted off; she didn't see as he smiled sadly into her hair, thinking just before he dozed off once again how very, very lucky he was to have this amazing woman in his life.

* * *

"Who was that?" Elsie asked. She and Tommy were in the kitchen, preparing dinner, and he'd just gone to answer the phone.

"Chief Vyner," Tommy replied. "He said for you to call him as soon as you have a moment."

Elsie took a deep breath. "Alright."

"He sounded happy," Tommy added. "So maybe it's good news."

"Mm," she answered, her mind already going full-tilt over all of the possibilities.

"I'm heading out to the barn," Tommy said. "Do you want to come with me?"

Elsie turned and smiled sadly at him, shaking her head. "No," she said softly. "Not today."

Tommy opened his mouth to reply, to encourage her to come back out, given that she'd been avoiding the barn all week. But he thought the better of it at the last minute; shrugging nonchalantly, he brought his backpack to his room, dropped it on his bed, and headed out.

Elsie dried her hands and picked up the phone.

"Vyner."

"It's Elsie Carson. Tommy said you called?"

"Are you sitting down?"

Elsie swallowed, reaching for the chair arm behind her as she grabbed it, steadied herself, and sat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Charles come in from the backyard, and he wordlessly sat beside her and took her empty hand in his.

 _Vyner,_ she mouthed, and he nodded.

" … won't need you to testify," the chief was saying. "Your husband's niece is up tomorrow, and the DA thinks she can clinch the entire thing. It's possible that you'll be called after that, but highly unlikely given the contents of your deposition."

"My God," she whispered, and she felt Charles squeeze her hand. "He said it's unlikely I'll have to testify," she explained, tilting the phone away from her mouth.

"And Mary?" Charles asked.

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "Yes - sorry, yes, I'm still here."

Charles watched as a variety of expressions passed over his wife's face: anger, disgust, sorrow, and more.

"Yes, he is," he heard her say. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head once, trying to focus.

"Yes, we are. Is that going to be a problem?"

A pause, then, "Oh, for Christ's sake … Yes, yes, I understand. Alright, I'll tell them. But they'd better not do that. There's nothing whatsoever that he could possibly say- Yes, I see. Thanks, Chief … Yes, I'll suggest that to him. Thanks again. Bye."

She pressed the red button to hang up and sat back forcefully in the chair, her head tilted back and her eyes shut tightly.

"They're calling Mary tomorrow," she repeated. "And he suggests that she have a ride. He's rather worried about the cross-examination; evidently she didn't do so well during prep and they're afraid she may break down."

"Wonderful," he sighed sadly. "Just what she needs."

"That's not all," Elsie added. "There is a _very_ slight chance that they'll want to speak with Tommy."

 _"What?"_

She lifted her head and squeezed his hand, kissing the back of it. "It's unlikely," she reiterated.

"They'd have to do that in chambers," Charles said. "He's a minor."

"Yes, and he was verifying that we are Tommy's legal guardians, and not Mary. One of us would have to go with him - or both."

Charles nodded, thinking. "It's because Laura and Richard were siblings, I presume."

"Yes," she said. "Although I'm not _quite_ sure what bearing that would have on the fire. Sarah set it because she snapped, although the way she planned it out was very, very calculated. She's not crazy, Charlie, of that I'm positive. But she didn't have anything against Tommy or Laura, from what I can glean from various things. She was after Richard, I'm sure of it." She shook her head, and her eyes misted. "That poor, poor woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Neither of them heard Tommy come in, but he sniffled, alerting them to his presence.

"Tommy," Elsie said softly. "I'm so sorry, dear. I … I didn't know you were there."

But the look she found on Tommy's face wasn't one of deep sorrow; no, Tommy Barrow was, at that very moment, quite angry indeed.

"She can rot in hell if I have anything to say about it," he said lowly. Elsie felt Charles's hand twitch in hers and she squeezed it, hoping to shush him before he admonished the boy for voicing what they all were thinking.

But Charles surprised them all by simply saying, "Agreed."

Tommy met his gaze, and his own softened just a bit as a sliver of fear crept in. "Would _you_ come with me? If I had to go and speak to the judge … would you?"

Charles was touched. "I would," he said, his voice rumbling. He inclined his head and his face softened just a bit. "I promise," he added.

Tommy nodded and then headed past the table on his way to his room.

"Thank you," he said quietly as he passed Charles. Elsie reached out and brushed his arm with her hand, but he kept walking before he lost all control completely.

"That went well," she said sarcastically.

"Oh, I think it did," Charles mused.

Elsie looked at him curiously. "Penny for them?"

Charles licked his lips, his gaze focused in the direction of Tommy's room.

"I think the boy is well on his way to becoming a man," he said quietly. "And he is very, very angry."

"Do you blame him?"

"No, not at all," Charles said. "In fact, I think we should be rather proud of him. It's a lot to deal with, and he's doing admirably."

"Well," Elsie said, getting up from her chair, "I'd say he has an excellent model for how to be a good, thoughtful man."

Charles caught her hand in his and pulled her down onto his lap, making her laugh as he tucked his head under her chin; she wrapped her arms around him and cradled him there for a moment, then placed a kiss to his head.

"It's true," she said. "Just like you're a wonderful example for Daisy, and just as I know you'll be a wonderful father to our little addition."

He rubbed her abdomen with his hand, and was rewarded with a small, fluttering kick.

"Well, hello there, little one," he said softly, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"He likes your voice," Elsie said.

"He? Are you so sure?" Charles asked.

"Ha! Not at all," she admitted. "But why not?"

He snuggled in more closely, smiling when she leaned down to kiss his forehead. "And you don't want to find out?" he asked, for what must have been the fifteenth time that week.

"Charlie, if _you_ really need to know, then we can find out!" she laughed. "Otherwise, no, I'm perfectly fine having it be a surprise."

"Alright," he acquiesced. "As long as he - _or she_ \- is happy and healthy, then I don't care."

"Agreed."

* * *

Elsie was just finishing up a cup of tea when the phone rang. She grabbed it absentmindedly as she scanned the newspaper in front of her.

"Did you know there's a York County Adoption Day?" Phyllis asked as soon as Elsie picked up the phone. "With two separate days for adoptions?"

"Hi Phyllis. No, I didn't. Where?"

"The first is at the Probate Court."

"Well, we _were_ planning on Bangor, but I think we'll do York County if at all possible. Whereabouts is it? And when?"

"November twenty-first if you do the court. I think the other is the sixteenth, but that might be tough. And it's at a children's museum, which may be a bit … juvenile. For Tommy, anyhow."

Elsie had whistled softly. "That's soon. Alright - let me talk to Charles and Tommy. Can I call you right back?"

"Sure."

She hung up and went down the hall to the bedroom, where Charles was folding the laundry.

"Hey, Mum," he teased lightly. "What brings you in here?"

She grabbed a shirt and started folding. "Phyllis called. On the twenty-first, there's a National Adoption event at the courthouse in Alfred. It's right here in York County, about half an hour away."*

"That would be great. Should we ask Tommy?" He tossed a pair of Daisy's jeans into her basket and reached for another.

Elsie nodded. "Yeah, I think so. It's just easier all around. And he's ready."

Charles was silent, continuing to fold things and sort into baskets for the kids to put away; Elsie helped him finish, then reached over and tucked herself under his arm.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The usual," he said with a sad smile.

She stood up on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. "We've been through this. You're a marvelous father, Charlie, and you'll continue to be one no matter which child we're discussing."

"I know _you_ feel that way," he said slowly, "but …"

"Shall we ask them? Can we do it now? Because I guarantee that the only person in this house that doesn't think you're an amazing, wonderful father is _you."_

Charles looked at her, words failing him as he tried to verbalize his thoughts. They were a mess, but luckily it was a mess that Elsie was rather used to by now.

"Having had a rotten father is a rather good way to figure out what _not_ to do," she reminded him quietly. "Trust me; I know."

"Yeah," he whispered, pulling her closer.

"So. A week. Can you arrange it by then?"

"Can I- _Oh._ Yes, of course," he smiled. "I'd nearly forgotten."

"Well, hopefully, they will have, too."

* * *

"Carson residence," Charles said, half listening to the caller's voice as he taped a moving box shut.

"Mr. Carson, it's Chief Vyner."

"Chief?" Charles held his breath, waiting for the other man to speak.

The Chief didn't beat around the bush. "It's over," he said with evident relief. "Guilty of two counts of second-degree murder and guilty of the crime of arson. The mental incapacity defense didn't stick. She's going away for the rest of her life, Mr. Carson, with no chance of parole for the next twenty years at the very least."

"My God," Charles managed.

"Your niece was superb, really nailed the case," the Chief added. "And that letter that O'Brien sent to your wife? The DA said she crumbled under cross-examination on that one, admitted she'd plotted the entire thing. Tell Elsie and Tommy that they don't have anything to worry about ever again from this one."

There was a kindness in the Chief's voice that wasn't often there, and Charles both heard and appreciated it.

"I will. Thank you."

"Thank _you,_ Mr. Carson. Without your encouragement, I'm convinced that your niece never would have come forward with everything she knew."

"Well, then, that's alright," Charles said. "Good night, Chief."

He hung up and turned to find Elsie standing in the doorway, staring at him with wide, brilliantly blue eyes.

"Charlie?"

He opened his arms to her and she practically dove into his embrace.

"It's over," he said. "It's really over. She's never getting out of prison."

Elsie couldn't even speak. She wrapped her arms tightly around her husband, clutching the back of his shirt fiercely as she sobbed into his chest, the emotion pouring out of her as Charles held her, steadying her in a way that no one else could.

* * *

Adoption Day arrived, and Tommy presented himself in the living room wearing the same tie he'd worn for his mother's funeral. It took Elsie by surprise, and she had to catch her breath; the boy looked so _different_ today than he had then, and she had to remind herself that he was, in fact, the same Tommy Barrow.

Except, of course, he wasn't.

"I want to keep my name," he said suddenly.

Charles looked at Tommy carefully, examining him, and noticed the boy wipe his palms on the sides of his pants … but surreptitiously, as though he was sneaking the movement.

"Alright," Charles said slowly. "That can be arranged."

"No," Tommy said. "I don't mean _just_ my name. But I want to keep it somehow."

"Huh?" Daisy asked. "Like, two last names?"

"Or a middle name," Elsie suggested. "You don't have one, do you?"

"How'd you know that?" Tommy asked, eyes widened.

But Elsie just chuckled. "School records. It's not common, so it stuck in my mind. Oh, yes, and the seven thousand forms we've filled out over the past few months."

"Right," Tommy said, feeling silly. "Well, then, yes. Like a middle name. Use Barrow as a middle name … because it was my Mum's name, and I don't want to give that up."

"Nor should you," Charles said understandingly. "Whatever you decide is fine with us. You know that."

"Right."

Just then, Daisy ran to the front window and her jaw dropped. "Papa?" she asked in a whisper. "Is that … Is that for us?"

Charles just smiled, seeing Tommy turn to look.

"No way!"

A stretch limousine was pulling up in front of the house; the chauffeur parked and then got out, waiting by the side of the car for the small family to make their way out.

"You did it," Tommy marveled, smiling at Charles and then letting out a laugh. "You really did it!"

"Well, it's a special occasion," Elsie said quietly. She put her arm around Tommy's shoulders and kissed his forehead, fleetingly thinking of how in another year he'd be towering over her.

"Yeah," he replied. He climbed in, and Daisy followed. Charles and Elsie stood outside of the car for a moment, enjoying a sweet - but brief - kiss.

"You ready, Mrs. Carson?" he asked.

"You bet."

They climbed into the limo and headed for the courthouse.

 **oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Aunt Mary!" Daisy yelled, running up the stairs and into her aunt's arms.

"Hello, darling," Mary said softly.

"You came." Daisy was beaming, and turned to smile at her father.

"Daisy?" he asked gently.

"She asked me last night," Mary explained. "I checked with Tommy to see if he minded, but he only reinforced her request."

Charles looked at the children, immensely proud that they'd thought to include their aunt.

"I'm glad," Elsie said kindly. "After all, you're Tommy's family, too."

Mary nodded her thanks and, together, the group of five made their way into the building.

After going through security and having Elsie and Mary's handbags searched, they proceeded down to Room 35, which was where the guard at the door told them the adoptions would take place.

"Judge Lane's a peach," he said. "You lucked out with her; she loves doing these. Congratulations to you."

"I didn't expect this, is all," Tommy said to Daisy.

"Which part? It's a courthouse."

"I know," he said quietly. "I just thought we'd be in some kind of … I dunno, conference room."

Mary and the children walked around and peered at the portraits hung high on the wall, and Elsie found a place to sit in the front row of chairs. Charles joined her in the neighboring seat.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I am." She reassured him with a pat on the hand. "Just tired."

The judge entered the room and greeted everyone. She appeared to be about fifty years old, and was tall and lean with a friendly smile.

When she got to Tommy and Daisy, who were now back with Charles and Elsie, she offered Tommy her hand.

"You must be Thomas Barrow," she said.

"Yeah - Tommy," he said, giving her a firm handshake. "I never go by Thomas."

"Very well," she acknowledged.

"I'm the oldest one here," he observed, and she chuckled.

"You are, but there's something rather nice about that. It's harder for teens to find adoptive homes."

Charles let out a little hum as Elsie said, "Well, we're thrilled Tommy wants to join our family."

"Indeed." The judge glanced at her watch. "Okay, it's showtime!"

She moved to her bench and everyone stood.

"I'm the Honorable Kathryn Lane, and it's my pleasure to welcome you all here today. November is National Adoption Month, and it's been with great joy that I've been able to preside over several of these ceremonies over the years. It is, without a doubt, one of the best aspects of my job.

"More than 100,000 children in the US are in foster care, waiting for an adoptive family, and the average wait time is about three years. Of those, over twenty percent will age out at 18 years old before ever receiving an adoptive placement, meaning they'll be out on their own.* I thank you all for being here today and for standing up for these kids. For saying 'You matter to me.' For saying 'We _want_ you as part of us.'"

She continued on a bit, and Elsie felt Daisy tuck her hand in Elsie's larger one; she clasped it, smiling and giving her girl a little wink.

Tommy was standing proud, still, listening intently to what the judge had said. He gave Charles a glance and Charles gave a brief flick of his prodigious eyebrows, as if to say, "She's right - told you so. We _do_ want you to be part of our family."

Judge Lane then moved through the families, one at a time, and asked them a series of questions. The questions changed a bit depending on each case and each child's situation; when she got to Tommy, he and his family stood.

"For the record, I'm going to ask you all to introduce yourselves," she began. They all complied, including Mary.

"And you are Tommy's aunt?" Judge Lane asked.

"I am," she confirmed.

"Alright." The judge noted something in her file. "And Thomas Barrow has relinquished his parental rights," she added, reading from one of the papers in front of her.

"He wasn't my biological father," Tommy offered. "But I don't know who that was."

"I see," she said quietly. "But as his name is on your birth certificate, this is an important paper to have."

She was quiet as she scanned a few things in the file that Phyllis had provided: case history, home visit information, and the like.

"Ah, you're the nurse at Tommy's school," she said, looking up at Elsie, who nodded.

"Yes, that's how we met," she said, smiling at Tommy.

The judge's eyes flicked to Elsie's abdomen, and then back to the paperwork. Charles bristled a bit, but Elsie calmed him by gently taking his hand in her free one, rubbing her thumb across the back of his fingers. The judge, however, said nothing about the baby.

Finally, Judge Lane closed the file.

"You've certainly been through quite an ordeal, all of you," she said. "Tommy, I am so very sorry to hear about your mother." She turned to Mary. "And your husband, Mrs. Carlisle."

"Thank you," they both said.

"Everything appears to be in order," she said. "Alright, Mr. and Mrs. Carson. Is it your intention to provide Tommy with a loving home? To care for him and address any needs that he may have?"

"It is," they replied in unison.

"And Tommy, is it your wish for the Carsons to adopt you? To become a permanent part of their family?"

"Yes, Your Honor. It is."

"Well, then - congratulations to you all," she said, smiling as she turned her attention toward Daisy. "Would you like to bang the gavel?"

Daisy's face brightened and she nodded frantically. "Yes, _please."_

Judge Lane handed it to Daisy, who banged it firmly on the wooden disc.

The remaining families in the courtroom applauded, and Elsie wrapped Tommy in a hug and kissed him on the head.

"Welcome to the family," she said quietly, and he nodded into her shoulder, swallowing a lump that had appeared in his throat.

The next ten minutes were spent with Judge Lane going through a few other items of paperwork and obtaining Elsie and Charles's signatures on several things. She came upon the request to make Tommy's official name _Thomas Barrow Carson_ and signed off on that as well.

She handed the file to Charles and came down from behind the bench to take a picture with the family, as she had with the other parties before them. As they were the last group, they were able to take their time taking photos, and Charles found himself with a moment to speak privately with the judge.

"You've got quite a lot of changes happening very quickly," she said to him. "It's going to be a wild ride."

"It is," he agreed, his eyes briefly meeting Elsie's loving gaze from across the room. "But I think we can make a go of it."

"I am sure you can," Judge Lane replied. "I see a lot of families come before me, Mr. Carson. Lots of families, lots of situations, lots of things that make me a bit wary. But you, your wife, and your niece … well, you've certainly got it together given the tragedy you've all been through."

She offered him her hand. "Congratulations, Mr. Carson. Do drop me a line sometime and let me know how it's going, please."

He looked at her, a bit surprised. "I shall."

She smirked. "You seem surprised that I'd be interested."

"I am, I admit it." He remembered something then, and voiced it to her. "The security guard mentioned that adoption ceremonies are one of your favorite things to do."

"Yes," she murmured, looking across the room at where Tommy seemed to be explaining something to Daisy. "I was adopted myself, when I was about your son's age," she said, the word _son_ spoken without hesitation, as though Tommy always _had_ been Charles's son. "My parents died in a tragic accident, and my neighbor took me in. A year later, she legally adopted me. I'd have been bounced around the system without her, and as I grew up I learned more and more about what that would have meant."

"And so you became a solicitor, and then a judge," he nodded. "I see."

"I think your wife is ready to leave," the judge hinted. "Congratulations again, Mr. Carson. Please do let me know how you all make out."

Charles shook her hand. "I will," he promised. "And thank you."

* * *

"They're here!" Elsie called down the hallway. "Everyone ready?"

Charles maneuvered his way out of the bedroom, dodging boxes and the occasional hamper of clothing. "I am!"

"We are!" Daisy yelled from her room, and her voice echoed through the emptiness. "Tommy's outside with Max, but they're ready, too."

Elsie took a deep breath and looked around the room. She felt her eyes fill with tears, and Charles drew her into a gentle, warm embrace, rubbing circles on her back and feeling the baby move around, nudging him in the hip.

"Someone's active today," he murmured into Elsie's hair, and she nodded.

"It's alright, you know," he said quietly. "We'll be here almost every day anyhow, and Anna and John will take such good care of the place. They'll love it _almost_ as much as you have."

"Almost," she agreed, wiping at her eyes. "It's just hard, Charlie. I worked _so hard_ to get here, to have a place that I love, space to grow."

"And you've done marvelously with it all," he told her. "And it's still yours, it's just … too small now." He reached down and rubbed her belly, and she laid her hand over his. "This little one is going to need that lovely room that overlooks the hydrangeas," he added, and Elsie chuckled.

"Yes, that's true," she admitted. "And we can come back tomorrow?"

"We can come back whenever you'd like," he assured her.

"Alright."

She let him lead her out the front door and to her truck. They'd loaded the things they'd need immediately into the truck, like food and clothing for a few days. John was following with Charles's Volvo, and Anna would come and pick him up later on. And the movers would follow them all, with everything else except the piano; that had been moved the day prior, by the same men who'd so carefully moved it into Mary's home.

As Elsie got over to the truck, she turned to look at the paddock and saw Scarlett up against the fence, watching them.

"Hold on a minute," she said to Charles, and she headed over to the paddock ... slowly.

Tommy pointed out the truck's window, and Daisy followed his gaze.

"No way," she whispered, but Tommy nodded, a smile plastered on his face.

"Just take it slow," he whispered, as if he could will Elsie to hear him.

Elsie moved to the edge of the fence, standing about two feet away from it. Scarlett dipped her head in Elsie's direction, trying to get closer, and Elsie reached her hand out and petted Scarlett between the ears. Her petting earned a nuzzle from her girl, and Elsie moved even closer to her, slowly lifting her arm and hugging Scarlett's head gently. She placed a kiss to her forehead and Scarlett nuzzled Elsie's neck and shoulder.

"I'm not leaving for good, you know," Elsie said to her. "I'll be back all the time. And you love Anna, and she and John will take good care of you."

Scarlett let out a soft whinny, startling Elsie, who backed away a bit but brushed her fingers over Scarlett's nose.

"I'll see you tomorrow, love," she said, and she wiped her eyes as she turned back toward the truck. She opened the door and climbed in gingerly, a bit sore from all the packing they'd done over the last several days.

"Let's go," she said, her voice thick. Charles just looked at her and gave one brisk nod, then started the truck and pulled into the driveway.

Daisy watched out the window as the house and the barn grew smaller behind them, but Tommy's gaze was focused on Elsie. He reached forward and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently; she reached her own hand up and placed it over his, patting it once in thanks.

"I'm proud of you," he said softly. "She's a pretty good listener, isn't she?"

Elsie laughed through her tears, and turned to face both of the children - _her_ children.

"She really is," she agreed.

"And we'll be back tomorrow," Tommy reminded her.

"We will," Charles interjected. "And whenever else you'd all like to come by."

"And we have your shower to look forward to!" Daisy added. That earned a _full_ laugh from Elsie.

"Oh, my, I suppose we do," she laughed. "And with you and Aunt Becky in charge, I think I should be scared!"

"No, you don't have to be scared," Daisy assured her. "We did a good job - and Mrs. Mason helped!"

Elsie looked over to Charles, who was trying his best not to laugh.

"That does not reassure me," she chuckled.

He reached over and took her hand, kissing the back of it before resting them both on his knee as he made his way onto the main road.

 ** _TBC..._**

* * *

 *** True story on the Adoption Day in York County, and the words the Judge said at the adoption ceremony here are a quote I pulled from an article about that particular event - although the one I quoted from was, in fact, the one at the museum. Bonus points to you if you knew Alfred is a real Maine town. My aunt lives about 30 minutes from there, but has a camp the next town over. I spent summers there when I was a kid. Misty Cove is NOT a real town, but if it were it'd be just in that area.**


	54. Showered With Love

**A/N: I typically hate showers, but some baby ones can be fun, and this was quite a joy to "plan" for my Elsie. As always, my thanks go out to brenna-louise for her beta work, and to her _and_ Hogwarts Duo for some decoration inspiration. Also, the end of the chapter brings a special visitor to the Carson household. I'm not sure if such a visitor is familiar outside of the US, but please feel free to look it up online.**

 **Minor note: I just wanted to remind you all that the Sybil in this fic is _not_ a Crawley. Some were confused by that earlier; she's just a very sweet nurse that Tom Branson has fallen madly in love with. **

**I'm going to be away for the next week and a half. If I have a chance to update, I will; if not, I'll do so as soon as I get back. "I promise." :)**

 **xx**

* * *

 ** _December 5, 2015_**

"I can't believe this," Charles grumbled, peering out the window of the study-turned-library. Angry waves were crashing up onto the shore, the foam spreading like a harbinger of the snow that was on its way. "I thought it would hold off until next week."

"Don't fuss," Elsie said gently. She reached into the box he'd just placed on the table for her and placed a kiss of thanks to his shoulder. She peeled off the tape and reached inside, grabbed a handful of books, and proceeded to place them on a shelf.

"You're not going to arrange those sensibly, are you?" he groused.

"I'm arranging them sensibly according to _my_ idea of sensible," she chuckled. "And don't you start. We agreed weeks ago that we could organize our own sections however we pleased."

"Hmph," came his reply, and he blew the curl off of his forehead as he hefted another box from the floor and placed it on his desk.

"Be careful, you," Elsie warned over her shoulder. "I don't need you on the floor beside those boxes."

"That's good, because I'm not sure my back would allow it," he mumbled teasingly, and she laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Tommy asked as he rounded the corner. He was carrying his own box of books, which he bent to place on the floor.

Elsie turned back to her shelf so that he wouldn't see her blush. "Just Charles being daft, as usual," she managed.

"Uh-huh." Tommy rolled his eyes and quickly emptied his box, having organized the books alphabetically by author and, subsequently, by title.

"Perfect," Charles praised, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just as they _should_ be organized."

Tommy peeked around Elsie and looked incredulously at her seemingly haphazard array of book spines. He looked at Charles, who was just shaking his head, a silent _I know!_ on his face.

"You … You've arranged those by _size?"_ Tommy asked.

"And if I did?" She turned and quirked an eyebrow at him.

"But- Ah, never mind. They look great," Tommy said quickly. "I'm going to bring Max for a walk before we head out."

"Thank you," Elsie smiled. "And remind Daisy that we have to leave soon, please."

"Will do!"

Elsie shelved her last book and moved up behind Charles, wrapping her arms around his middle as best she could.

"I can barely _reach_ now," she laughed. "I'm not sure how much bigger this baby can get!"

He turned slowly and drew her up to his side, dropping a kiss to her head. "Plenty."

"Wait … Just how big were _you_ when you were born?"

"Erm … almost five," he said guiltily.

 _"Kilos?_ But that's …" She gulped.

"Big. Yes, I know. Um, I'm sorry?"

"Right." Elsie placed her hands on her abdomen and spoke to the baby. "The moment those lungs are developed, you're getting the hell out of there. Deal?"

The baby shifted and placed a swift kick to Elsie's right palm.

* * *

Cheers and applause greeted Elsie as she and Daisy made their way into _The Cheeky Devil._ Elsie turned to shut the door, smiling as she spotted the hand-made sign that Daisy had prepared, which simply stated: _Closed for private function._

"Oh, my!" she gasped. "This is _incredible!"_

The restaurant had been completely transformed for Elsie's baby shower. The theme, chosen by Beryl, Becky, and Daisy, was children's literature. As Elsie scanned the room, she spotted huge cut-outs of characters from everyone's favorite children's books: Winnie-the-Pooh, Tigger, and Eeyore by the kitchen, a Cat in the Hat by the entryway, Skippyjon Jones over by the window, Miss Rumphius kneeling in a field of lupine on the back wall.

And, on the other side of the kitchen from the Pooh crew, she spied an enormous Giving Tree. It was set up next to the gift table so that the leaves - all of which had been individually cut out from green paper - were hanging down over it.

"Everyone's been asked to bring a book for the baby," Becky was explaining as Elsie reached out and fingered a leaf. Becky demonstrated the purpose of the tree by reaching up and removing a leaf; she taped it onto the wrapped package she had under her arm, wrote a short message on it, and placed the bundle in the large basket on the floor by the table. "Hopefully everyone brings something different," she added, a serious look about her face. "Otherwise, Baby will have two of some things!"

"Becky, this is remarkable," Elsie managed. "Truly. Does Charles know about this?"

"He does," came her husband's voice from somewhere behind her. Elsie whipped around and faced him.

"You were going _home,_ you said!" she accused lightly. "You _lied_ to me!"

His booming laugh made everyone around them smile. "Look around, love," he coaxed, and she did - and finally noticed that almost half of the room's occupants were male.

"Jack and Jill," Beryl said with a smile. "The general consensus was that _no one_ was missing a chance to celebrate _this_ baby." She moved over to her friend and wrapped her in a hug, placing a kiss to her cheek. "And don't you go getting all emotional _now,_ Missy," she whispered. "Because there's lots more to come."

"But where's Tommy?" Elsie asked suddenly. "He was in the car with us."

"Ah. He's running a little errand with Bill; they'll be back in a jiffy, though."

"Alright." Elsie peered over at the food table, a look of sheer happiness coming over her face. "Oh, Beryl, you didn't."

"Well, you've been craving it like nobody's business," she smirked. "Have at 'em. No one's been allowed near the table - pregnant ladies first, don't you know?"

Elise didn't have to be told twice; she grabbed a plate and filled it with ham salad rolls - four, to be exact. She added a spoonful of salad for good measure and then turned to face the crowd.

"Alright, the rest of you may now approach the ham rolls. It's safe! Just … you know … don't eat them _all."_

With light laughter and loving smiles, everyone lined up at the buffet, filling their own plates with the delectable selections that Beryl had provided.

"There's enough there to feed an army," Charles muttered as he joined his wife at the head table.

"Yes, or your wife," Edith murmured around a bite of sandwich. "And don't knock it, either. It's thanks to Beryl that you'll be eating like a king once this baby is born."

"Oh, don't I know it," he replied gratefully, already eyeing the cake at the opposite end of the table. "The woman just keeps filling our freezer, and I'm not complaining one bit."

As everyone else sat to eat, Elsie saw Tommy and Bill slip in the door with what looked like a box of … _copy paper?_ Tommy set it on the gift table and joined Bill at the buffet. He filled a plate with assorted goodies, but then he saw Elsie looking at him _just so._ He headed back to add a few vegetables and a piece of fruit to his plate. She nodded her thanks and watched as Tommy moved to sit with Mary, engaging her in some kind of conversation.

Elsie knew that Mary had gone to dinner with Evelyn Napier the other night, the two of them having hit it off at some point during the piano moving day. Evelyn had stopped by the new house with a copy of some paperwork for Charles, and Mary happened to have come along with the piano movers in order to bring some boxes that Charles had left in her attic. Tommy had been rather intrigued by the exchange that had taken place between his aunt and the realtor, and Elsie smiled now as she imagined the third degree that Tommy was likely giving Mary about the first date.

"What are you smiling about?" Charles said quietly. "Oh, wait … I see." He shook his head. "Poor Mary."

"Ha!" Elsie laughed, wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "Indeed. I'd say that our son is following in his father's footsteps, keeping an eye on the 'blessed lady Mary.'"

Charles turned and saw the mischief in her eyes, noting there was not a trace of malice in her words, and he was momentarily distracted by the absolute brilliance of her blue irises, so much brighter than the color often was.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked suddenly.

"I'm feeling _marvelous,_ actually," she reassured him, tucking into her third roll.

He chuckled, then turned his attention back to his own plate.

"Hey!" he yelled as Elsie snuck her hand over and stole something off his plate.

"Hm?" she asked playfully, already crunching down on the crisp she'd popped into her mouth. "May I help you?"

He laughed, drawing her into an awkward embrace at the table.

"I know, I know," he sighed dramatically. And then, making air quotes with his fingers, he added, "It's 'for the baby.'"

"You've got it," she agreed.

* * *

"Alright! Everybody, listen up!" Becky shouted, and the hum of conversation quieted down immediately. "Tommy's got an activity for you all, and he's going to explain it. Did everyone get a pen when they came in?"

Everyone nodded except Violet, who emitted a rather loud, "Wait - there were pens? What on earth do I need a pen for?"

Beryl bit her lip to keep from laughing and brought one over. She smiled at everyone at Violet's table, and noticed Robert's slight embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it," Beryl murmured as she passed him. _Dear man,_ she thought. _And a saint to put up with a mother like that._ _Still, the woman_ _ **did**_ _insist that they all be here for the shower and the birth, so she can't be all that bad …_

"Okay, then!" Tommy's voice interrupted Beryl's thoughts. "Here's what we're doing. We were all at home a few weeks ago and talking about our wishes for this baby. Daisy and I thought it would be fun if _you_ all had a chance to do that, too. Mr. Mason's handing you all a paper. Your job is to complete the sentences on each page. As we go through the rest of the food, the gifts, and the other activities, just write stuff down as you think of it. Please," he added quickly after receiving a nudge from Daisy's elbow. "We'll collect them at the end of it all and give them to Charles and Elsie to save."

A murmur filled the room and Daisy and Thomas picked up on a few people's voices as they read aloud from the sheet …

"Aw, how sweet."

 _"I hope you love_ _..._ I swear I'm going to write 'cake' in there, _"_ Beryl teased, already filling in another space.

 _"I hope you aren't afraid of_ _..."_ John read. He glanced at Anna and smiled, and she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

 _"I hope you never forget ..."_

Pens scratched as people filled in the first things that came to mind; Tommy looked at Daisy and smirked, and she nodded happily.

 _Perfect,_ she mouthed to him, and he nodded back.

Charles saw the exchange, but said nothing. He just sat and thought of how very, very lucky they were that both Tommy _and_ Daisy were excited about this baby.

* * *

"Come on, Mummy," Becky said, holding her hand out to Elsie and helping her to stand up from the table. "Time to open gifts!"

A brief round of applause was heard as Elsie deposited herself into the comfortable chair set by the gift table.

"This is all too much," she said, her voice thick with emotion and gratitude. "Robert, Cora, Violet - I can't believe you're here! And the rest of you! I think half of Misty Cove is in this restaurant!"

"As usual for a Saturday!" Tom Branson called from the back of the room, and ripple of laughter made its way through the guests.

"True!" Elsie laughed.

"Okay, Sis," Becky said softly in her ear. "You're going to open the gifts, and we'll have Charlie boy do the books." She motioned for Charles to take the other chair opposite the table from Elsie, and he did as he was asked. "You can alternate, and then it'll go more quickly."

"One would think this is _your_ party," Elsie smiled, patting Becky's cheek gently. "Thank you so much, my darling."

"You're welcome. We had loads of help," Becky said, handing her the first gift.

"It's from Fiona, Anna, and John," Elsie announced, setting the card aside and reaching into the gift bag. She felt something soft and pulled out an afghan, tightly knitted in the soft blues and tans of the seashore-themed nursery. "Oh, this is _gorgeous."_

"Fiona made it," Anna said. "She's so sorry she couldn't be here today. She's holding down the fort at the Tree Farm."

"That's quite alright," Elsie reassured. She spotted something else in the bag and pulled out a gift card.

"And that's from us," John said. "We figured you'll get well stocked up on stuff today, but come three months from now there'll be other things you'll need."

"Indeed. Thank you both so much." Elsie shared a loving glance with Anna, whom she was happy to see was all smiles. Elsie's pregnancy hadn't always been easy for Anna to face, but she'd done so admirably.

Charles pulled a book from the basket and peeled away the paper. "Ohhh," he murmured to Elsie, who was simply melting at the tenderness on her husband's face. "I know who _this_ is from." He flipped over the green-leaf tag and read it aloud.

"To Baby Carson," he read. "An old favourite, which your Papa is sure to read to you countless times as you drift off to sleep to the sound of his soothing voice." His voice caught as he pried open the cover of _Where the Wild Things Are_ and read the inscription in a lower voice, in words that only Elsie could make out, "I already love you so, little one."

He glanced up at Mary, who smiled fondly at him and gave the briefest nod, a gesture which he returned in kind, his heart filled with love.

The remainder of the shower was spent much the same, with Elsie and Charles doing their best to maintain a quick but respectful speed of opening gifts and thanking people. _Ooohs_ and _ahhhs_ abounded as they piled up an assortment of onesies, bottles, bedding, medical necessities, and more. When gift opening was over, Charles took Elsie's hand and led her through all the tables, memories of their wedding in their minds as they circulated around the large room, kissing and hugging and thanking everyone for their thoughtfulness. The cake was cut and served, and in another hour the last of the guests had gone; aside from the Carsons and Masons, only Tom had remained. He was helping Tommy to load the last of the gifts into the Volvo, and no one noticed his wink or Tommy's responding smirk.

"It's much too late to cook anything now," Beryl was saying. "Let's all just go out, shall we?"

"Elsie?" Charles looked to his wife, deferring to her wishes. He felt that it had been a long day, so he couldn't imagine how tired Elsie must be.

"I agree," she sighed. "But I believe that the hotel has a function tonight, so we can't go there."

"Well, are any of us really that hungry just now?" Beryl asked. She peered outside. "The snow should hold off until tomorrow. Why not take a ride into Portland?"

"Sure. Let me tell the kids." Elsie went off to do that, and Charles and Bill decided where to go. Beryl found Tom and Tommy over by the door and gave them a thumbs-up behind her back.

"All good," Tommy murmured, and Tom headed over to get his coat.

"I'll be going, then," he said, kissing Elsie on the cheek as she came over.

"Thank you so much for everything," Elsie said warmly. "I'll see you next week for dinner."

"Will do. Sybil will be thrilled; she really likes you. Thanks for the invite, and be sure to let us know what to bring."

"We will."

They watched him leave, and Charles squeezed Elsie's hand in his. "How are you really?" he asked.

"Tired and a bit hungry," she replied immediately. "So, the usual."

He chuckled as he put his arm around her shoulders. They corralled the kids into the Volvo and the Masons' minivan, and off they headed for dinner in Portland.

* * *

"They're coming!"

Robert's frantic look earned a laugh from Cora, who was standing in the middle of the nursery and admiring her handiwork.

"Oh, Cora. It's absolutely lovely," he added in a softer voice, coming up behind his wife and wrapping his arms around her waist. "And they don't suspect a thing. Shall we hang the picture?"

Cora nodded, and they measured and hung a rather large frame on the wall opposite where the crib would go.

She turned to kiss him. "Perfect. And they've just left the restaurant?"

"They have, so we have to be going _very_ soon."

"Don't fret, darling," she said, patting his chest. "According to Mary, we should still have at least fifteen minutes based upon where we are in relation to Portland."

"I know. Here, I'll help you clean up the last of it, and we can be out in ten. With any luck, we won't even pass them on the road."

"I just have one more thing," Cora said, placing a smaller frame atop the dresser. "There - perfect. They'll see it just as they come in, or soon after."

They loaded up the car and Cora took Robert's hand as they pulled out of the driveway; she lifted his fingers and kissed his knuckles.

"I'm so very happy for them," she whispered. "Who'd ever have thought Charles would be having another baby?"

"After seeing them at our place last February, I can't believe you're actually surprised!"

Cora laughed with him, but then Robert turned pensive rather quickly.

"I do know what you mean, though. Who ever would have thought we'd see Charles this _happy?_ No doubt about it; he deserves every bit of it, and more."

"Agreed." Cora leaned over and wrapped her arms around Robert's, resting her head on his shoulder as he drove away down the lamp-lit street. "And from what I've been able to gather, he's the best thing that's ever happened to Elsie."

* * *

Charles pulled up to the front of their house, parking the car in the crescent driveway instead of in the garage.

"Easier to unload from here," he explained unnecessarily, and he moved over to Elsie's side of the car to help her get out before making his way to the back, where the children were already unloading gifts.

"There's a lot of stuff here," Daisy commented. She took three gift bags and a stuffed animal and headed in. Tommy and Charles carried the larger boxes, which contained the car seats, high chair, and the like. Elsie wasn't allowed to do anything except go in and relax, but she headed into the nursery and flipped the switch, thinking Charles might just let her dictate where things were to be placed if she sat in the nursing chair and put her feet up.

"Oh, my God," she whispered, her hands half-covering her face as she stared wide-eyed at the sight before her. She was vaguely aware of the sound of everyone bustling about in the hallway, but she stood glued to the spot.

"Elsie?" Charles called down the hall. "Where are you?"

She was having trouble speaking, but she knew he'd find her; after a moment, she heard his footsteps directly behind her in the nursery. She turned to meet his gaze, tears spilling from her eyes.

"It's perfect," she said. "Thank you so much. I don't know how you did it, Charlie, but- "

"Elsie, I have _no idea_ how this got here." He was dumbfounded, and saw her brow furrow. "What on earth ...?"

"But if _you_ didn't do this, then who …?"

"Do you like it?" Daisy asked from the doorway.

Elsie and Charles turned to see her and Tommy looking in; Charles held out his hand and Daisy took it.

"Did _you two_ do all of this?" Charles asked incredulously.

"And now how could we have done this?" Tommy asked with a smirk. "We were with you the entire day!"

Elsie opened her mouth to say something, but then promptly shut it.

"But you knew," Charles managed. "So how did this get here?"

"Know any artists?" Tommy asked, his teenage attitude peeking through a bit.

Elsie gasped. "No way. _Cora_ did this?"

Daisy beamed, nodding as she looked up at her father. "We called her from the Masons' place a couple of weeks ago. We knew Auntie Cora would be here for the shower and asked if she'd do it. And it _is_ Auntie Cora, so of course she said yes."

"The whole thing was Aunt Becky's idea," Tommy added, and Elsie's face softened even more. "Take a closer look."

Elsie returned her gaze to the tops of the walls. There, written around the entire perimeter of the room, were a variety of quotes that guests had written down just that afternoon at the baby shower.

 _I hope that you always know love. I hope that you aren't afraid to spread your wings and fly. I hope you love horses! I hope you get big and strong. I hope you laugh every day. I hope you never forget how much we love you. I hope you become whatever you want to be …_

The list went on, two rows intertwined, seemingly with no beginning or end.

"Elsie," Charles said, "look." He pointed to the bureau, and Elsie took the frame from it. Under the glass were a few of the cut-apart pieces from the activity sheets that Tommy had handed out, quotes that had been chosen for the nursery wall, ones that Elsie somehow knew were from members of the family.

"That one's Violet's," Charles said, pointing to one. "I'd know her writing anywhere."

"Tommy?" Elsie asked, looking up at him. "This one's yours, isn't it?"

Tommy peered over her shoulder and saw _I hope you laugh every day._ "Yeah, that's mine."

"Guess which is mine?" Daisy asked, and she was puzzled when everyone laughed.

"Charlie," Elsie whispered. "Turn around." She started to cry in earnest, and he turned around to see what had caught her attention.

On the wall behind them was an enormous photograph, framed, of a scene at the farm. It showed Daisy riding Scarlett, with Elsie standing a bit back from the fence and Tommy standing by her side, their backs to the camera, Elsie's arm draped around his shoulders. Charles was standing opposite them on the other side of the paddock, watching his girl as she rode around.

"Tom Branson, that devil, _"_ Elsie said, her voice muffled by a sob. "I can't believe this is all real, Charlie."

"When was that taken? Last month?"

Elsie nodded. "He took it just before leaving after lunch that day. Said something about wanting to show Sybil what the farm was like."

"He showed the photo to _us_ that day as well, as he was leaving," Tommy said. "He asked if you'd want a copy of it, and we said yes."

"But how did it get _here?_ " Charles said.

But Elsie was beginning to piece it all together. "You sneaky children," she laughed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "You and Beryl and Auntie Becky planned the entire shower, Daisy. You must have mentioned the photograph, and your aunt came up with the idea to put the wishes from the shower on the wall. Then you corralled Auntie Cora into helping."

"Well, that bit was Mrs. Mason's idea," Tommy said. "She had us call Aunt Cora and we worked out the details. She said she'd need you out of the house for a couple of of hours."

"And so dinner plans were made," Charles nodded. "By Beryl Mason."

"But how did they get in?" Elsie asked.

Charles smiled, realization fully setting in. "Because we'd given Mary a spare key in case of emergency," he said simply, looking at his wife once more. "She must have passed it to them at some point."

"And Mr. Branson slid the picture into their car when you were opening your gifts," Daisy said, her voice full of glee.

"You do like it, don't you?" Tommy asked.

"Like it?" Elsie managed. "Oh, my darling boy. It's _perfect."_

"Good."

Elsie took another look around the nursery. She ran her hand over the sleigh crib, and then the dresser with the topper that had been sewn by Phyllis and given to Elsie last month, its fabric a pale blue to match the bedding. She pulled the blanket from the bag the Bateses had given them and folded it over the side of the crib, then brushed her fingers over the sea-themed mobile; the starfish, sea otter, seahorse, and octopus seemed to smile back at her.

She turned and took in the pale beige of the walls and the way Cora had done all of the text stenciling in a darker blue that matched the color of the Maine sea in winter. And she marveled at how, somehow, the photo from the farm fit right in with it all.

The kids headed down to their rooms and Elsie felt Charles wrap her up in his arms. He maneuvered them backward a bit, sitting in the armchair by the crib and pulling Elsie into his lap. It was a bit awkward with her belly, but he made it work by simply facing her away from him. He nuzzled her neck, and she tilted to the side to help him reach.

"We can't," she said, but she felt him shake his head.

"No, I know," he replied. "I just need to hold you for a minute. I'm a bit overwhelmed right now."

Elsie leaned back and felt him snuggle closer to her, resting his hands next to hers so that, together, they covered where their baby rested.

"Do you think he or she knows how much love is in this room right now?" he whispered.

"I hope so."

Just then, Daisy squealed. They heard her footsteps pounding up the staircase, and she skidded to a halt just after passing the nursery door, doubling back and barreling into the room.

"Look! Look what Santa sent to me!"

"Sorry?" Charles asked, looking around Elsie's shoulder.

But Elsie had started shaking, and Charles realized instantly that she was _laughing_ about something.

"How wonderful, Daisy! You'll have to think of a name for him. Or her," she added quickly.

"For _whom,_ exactly?" Charles asked.

Daisy rolled her eyes.

"Papa, didn't you see? Look!"

She thrust the box out for him to see, and he read the words aloud.

 _"The Elf on the Shelf?_ What on earth is that?"

"It's an elf, Papa," Daisy explained patiently. "And he lives in the house, and he's _magic._ And every night he goes to Santa to report how we're behaving, and returns before we wake up. But you know he's gone because he's never in the same spot more than once." She scrunched up her brow a bit. "Marigold's caused a bit of trouble last year, though, so I hope this one is good."

She examined her elf - contained within the box in a rather odd way, Charles thought - and Charles asked, "What do you mean, 'trouble'?"

"Oh, he was hanging from the ceiling fan one day, and he spread toilet paper all over her bathroom another day."

"Erm," Charles began, but Elsie laid her hand over his.

"Why don't you go give it a name," Elsie said. "And read the book. I bet it says how best to care for your new friend."

"Okay," Daisy said, the tip of her tongue sticking out as she examined the elf again. "I think it's a girl."

"Excellent. We'll be down in a minute."

Daisy did as she was told, clutching the box to her chest as she returned to her room.

"Elsie? What have you done?"

"Me? Oh, no, Charlie. This was not _my_ doing."

"But … But you knew what it was!"

"That doesn't mean that I bought it!" she insisted in a frantic whisper. "Oh, no. That little gift is from someone else."

And then, with something akin to amusement in her eyes and fear in his, they both spoke simultaneously.

 _"Robert."_

* * *

 **Please leave a little review if you are so inclined - they've kept me going so far and I love hearing what you all think! Much love to you all. xxx**

 **CSotA**


	55. Friends and Family Near

**A/N: I'm sorry that the Elf on the Shelf confused some of the non-Americans. I can't manage to post a link here but if you Google it you'll definitely find it. Basically, it's a toy elf. It shows up at the house as Christmas nears, and every morning (between Thanksgiving and Christmas, or whenever your family starts Christmas preparation) the elf appears in a different spot in the house, having "traveled to the North Pole" the night before to report to Santa about the child's good behavior. It's much like you'll see in this chapter - some people get very involved, and** **some hate that it's a commercialized Christmas thing. (And some people think they're just damn creepy.)**

 **My thanks to brenna-louise who is still so faithfully beta-reading this neverending story. Any mistakes herein are wholly mine as I struggle with getting this to update properly. I had it all set and the Wi-Fi where I am blipped off. So I went back, but feel like it's still a bit wonky.**

 **Thanks to all of you for your amazing reviews. They're so very much appreciated, and I feel blessed. xx**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **December 5, 2015**_

 _ **10:10 p.m.**_

"It needs to move, right?" Charles looked at Elsie, a silent pleading in his eyes.

"Of course, but I'm not sure if she's asleep."

"Well, just so long as _you_ do it. I'm not touching it. It's … disturbing, I think."

Elsie looked at her husband pointedly and rolled her eyes. They were standing opposite one another in their bedroom doorway - a stand- _off_ if you asked Elsie - and she crossed her arms across her chest.

"You're fifty years old, Charles Carson. Surely you can handle moving one elf?"

He stood a little taller on the hallway side of the door , his lips pursed, and flicked his eyes back and forth from the stairs leading to Daisy's room to his wife's eyes. And then his own eyes lit up, which made Elsie's narrow in suspicion.

"What?" she asked slowly.

Her husband's face broke out in a grin, and he even let out a little chuckle. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into the bedroom, then promptly shut the door behind them.

"What if," he began slowly, "we ask _Tommy_ to do it?"

Elsie opened her mouth to argue, then immediately shut it again. She knew how the elf thing worked, having heard the stories of a few friends at work. She also knew how, well, _creative_ Tommy could be.

 _Yes,_ she thought, _with some adequate guidelines, that may be the most fun for Daisy._

"Alright," Elsie allowed. "With restrictions. Nothing inappropriate, of course."

"Inappropriate?" Charles huffed. "Such as what?"

Elsie pulled out her phone and searched _Bad Elf on the Shelf._ She ignored the YouTube videos and clicked "Images," and then she held the phone out to Charles.

"Such as those," she said.

Charles scanned the first two photos - of elves in precarious positions with Barbies - and promptly shoved the phone back into Elsie's hand.

"Restrictions," he nodded. "Absolutely. But he'll be good at it. And he'll come up with some _appropriate_ things, won't he? I have to say, aside from it being creepy as hell, I'm afraid I'll _forget_ to move the bloody thing."

"Precisely why parents hate them."

"Then _why_ do they _buy_ them?" Charles asked.

"Because it's such fun for the kiddies," Elsie said, smiling as she patted her husband's cheek. "Now, let's get out of here. We've got to tell Tommy about his new responsibilities, and then this Mummy needs one serious foot massage from her doting husband."

"As you wish," he said, rising and then extending his arm around her waist. He leaned over and placed a tender kiss to her lips. "You're beautiful, Elsie. Did you know?" he murmured as his lips brushed up her cheek to her temple.

"Beautifully enormous," she chuckled, leaning her forehead into him, "but I thank you nonetheless for the sweetness."

* * *

"Wait … Santa … and the elf … aren't _real?"_ Tommy looked horrified. His eyes grew as big as saucers and his bottom lip quivered.

"Erm," Charles sputtered, but Elsie swatted the boy playfully on the arm.

"Oh, you," she chided him, tilting her head sideways toward Charles. "You'll give _him_ another heart attack if you keep on like that!"

Tommy smiled instantly, laughing a bit at his trick. "Gotcha," he said.

"That wasn't nice," Charles grumbled.

" _But_ a good indicator that I can lie about Christmas, _and_ the elf, like you need me to," Tommy countered. "And, to answer your question, of course I'll be in charge of the thing. I've already got some ideas."

"About that," Elsie began, but Tommy put up his hand.

"I know," he said, already nodding. "No booze, cigarettes, sex, or other inappropriate things. My friends had these too, you know."

"I do know. Alright, then, here are a couple of ideas I had in mind." She held out her phone, and Tommy peered at the screen, which now showed _appropriate_ elf placements in various houses. He nodded, humming as he scrolled through. He bookmarked a few, then handed the phone back to her, pointing.

"That one's tonight," he said. "Start her off right."

Elsie looked at the phone and nodded. "Okay, but nothing that interferes with our daily life. No putting him in the sink or, heaven forbid, the oven or the washing machine."

"Gotcha."

Tommy took the elf from Elsie's hand and headed to Daisy's room. He peered in the door to verify that she was asleep and then he tiptoed in.

"C'mon, Sprite," he whispered to the elf. "We're about to have some fun with a few of Daisy's buddies."

He helped himself to a few items from the basket in the corner by Daisy's door, then scurried downstairs to fetch the other necessities for his plan.

* * *

Daisy woke early, with remnants of a dream about the farm in her mind. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes, still fuzzy for a bit about where she was. But as she looked around her room and listened to the sounds of the tide, she remembered.

 _We've moved,_ she reminded herself. _Because of the baby. It's the new house._

By that point she was wide awake, but she snuggled down under her covers again for a few more minutes and allowed herself time to imagine what things might be like when the baby finally arrived.

The nursery was wonderful, and Daisy was so happy that Papa and Elsie had liked it, that they'd not been angry about any of it. She remembered how Tommy had said she (and he) would be able to help take care of the baby - to hold it, and feed it, and play with it - and how Elsie and Papa reassured her that this was true.

But she also remembered talking with Marigold at school the other day, about how Peter used to keep her awake all night, crying at all hours. Of how he was fussy sometimes, didn't want to be held, and how annoying it was that he could just scream and no one would know what to do. She wasn't so sure she wanted to deal with that, although she _did_ acknowledge that the baby's nursery was downstairs with Papa and Elsie's room, and far from Daisy and Thomas. Chances were good that _they'd_ not be awoken as easily as Marigold had been, with Peter just the next room over.

 _Papa and Elsie …_ Daisy pondered them for a minute. They were so happy, and it was so unlike how Papa had been with Mummy. He and Elsie were always looking at each other sweetly, giving one another little kisses, and it had never been like that before. Still, Daisy knew her Mummy had loved _her_ very much, and it was making her sad trying to remember things about Mummy and finding out that some of them were fading. Daisy could barely remember the sound of Mummy's voice anymore, and that worried her. She tried very hard, but whenever she thought she had it, some of _Elsie's_ voice would creep in, with phrases like _I love you, sweetheart_ being the same _words,_ but the _sounds_ all a jumble.

Tommy had asked Daisy last night if she'd ever consider calling Elsie _Mum._ Daisy knew that Tommy was struggling _himself_ with what to call Elsie and Papa, sticking with first names for now but feeling a bit odd about it. But he and Daisy were agreed that they had _parents,_ not _friends,_ and that when the baby came it might be easier if they just all called them the same thing.

Maybe.

Daisy wasn't sure she was ready for that, and she was pretty sure that Tommy wasn't ready, because he'd just lost his own Mum such a short time ago. But still … Plenty of kids at school had weird families of all sorts: stepparents, grandparents who lived at home, one who lived with an auntie, and twins who had two fathers. They all managed to find a way.

 _Marigold calls Bertie "Papa" now,_ she reminded herself. And while she knew Marigold's Papa had been gone for a very long time, she knew that giving that name to Bertie had been hard for her friend; now, however, it just rolled off Marigold's tongue as though Bertie had _always_ been Marigold's Papa.

 _Best to think on it some more,_ she told herself, and she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed …

… and almost stepped on Sprite. And about five of Sprite's friends.

Her squeal was quickly silenced behind the hand she clapped over her mouth.

"What are you doing?" she giggled to the elf, who was just looking at her pointedly, as if to say, "Watch your step!"

Sprite, two Barbies, and three Beanie Babies were having what appeared to be a sack race across the middle of Daisy's floor. They weren't moving, but it was clear that Sprite was coming in dead last. Still, she was smiling, and Daisy laughed. She carefully stepped around them all, making sure she didn't touch the elf*, and flew downstairs to the kitchen.

She turned the corner to see everyone already seated at the table.

"You have to see what Sprite's doing!" she shouted. "Come on!"

"Daisy, I've just poured my tea," Charles explained gently. "Give an old man a minute, please. And good morning, by the way."

"Good morning," Daisy replied dutifully, bouncing from one foot to the other, and Charles gave in after only a few moments.

"Alright," he said, groaning as he rose from the table, tea in hand. "Let's see what you're on about."

He followed her up the stairs, and Elsie gave Tommy a wink across the table.

"Well done, you," she said softly, and her boy beamed with pride.

"Just wait until you see what it gets up to _tonight,"_ he cautioned mischievously.

* * *

The next week was filled with school, snow, Christmas shopping, and obtaining a tree. Charles piled the entire family into Elsie's truck and drove them to the Bates Tree Farm, where Tommy and Daisy trudged through a foot of freshly-fallen snow for almost an hour before they found the perfect tree. Tommy texted a picture of it to Charles, who was holding down the fort in the truck with Elsie as they drank hot cocoa from a Thermos.

"Ohh, that one's lovely," she cooed. She looked at Charles with bright eyes, and he texted back a quick _Looks good. I'll send John over. What's the tag number?_

 _38._

 _Got it,_ Charles texted back. After conversing briefly with John, he sent Tommy one additional text: _He's on the way up._

"We've got a tree?" Elsie asked.

"We've got a tree," Charles confirmed. "I hope Tommy and I can get it in the house by ourselves; otherwise, it'll have to wait until John gets out of work which, judging from the throngs of people here, won't be anytime soon."

"Mm," Elsie agreed, resting her head back on the seat and closing her eyes. "And then we can decorate it, which should be lovely. Have you many ornaments?"

"Quite a few, yes," Charles thought, his mind bouncing around as he mentally catalogued the contents of his ornament boxes. "You?"

"Not terribly many," Elsie said. "Most from when Becky and I were children, and a few others I picked up over the years."

"Half of mine are from the Crawleys," Charles mused. "And I've a fair few that Daisy has made over the years, which are the ones we put on first. They're quite sweet."

Elsie beamed. "It'll be a true family tree, then," she said. "Oh, wait. Do you think Tommy has anything?"

"He does, actually. I asked him last week. He said he has a small box of them that he took when we emptied out the house."

"Good."

Elsie's phone buzzed and she checked her text.

"Oh, fabulous timing!" she exclaimed.

Charles looked at her expectantly, and she added, "Phyllis has finished the stockings."

"Ah, wonderful. Did she send a picture?"

"She did." Elsie held it out to show him, a colorful array of five Christmas stockings spread out over the screen.

"She's truly a talented seamstress," he commented.

"She cross-stitched the front panels and then embroidered their names. I can't believe how much I love them!"

"Well, she'll have to go back _and_ a name," he said, speaking to the baby, "because _you_ are _forbidden_ from making an appearance this early."

The phone buzzed five more times in succession, and Elsie flipped through the other pictures Phyllis was sending. Each was an individual Christmas stocking: Charles had a gingerbread man on his, Tommy's was a toy soldier, Daisy's a rocking horse, Elsie's a Christmas farm scene, and the baby's had a teddy bear with a red bow around its neck.

"You're sure Daisy won't mind?" Elsie asked.

"Positive," Charles answered. "She had a very hard time hanging her old stocking last year. Too many memories." He reached over and took her hand. "I think making some _new_ ones will be good for her. And we're not disposing of it; we'll pack it up and let her take it when she's grown."

Elsie nodded. "I hope Tommy has the same reaction."

"They'll love them," Charles reassured her. "And speaking of the devils …"

John drove up in his pickup, the tree in the back and Tommy and Daisy riding up front.

"Here we go - they chose a beaut!" John said.

Charles handed over his payment and John pocketed it with the ticket from the tree.

"I'll grab you some change," he tried, but Charles shooed that idea away with a shake of his hand.

"Keep it," he said. "We should have cut and transported it ourselves."

"Fair enough." John knew when to argue and when not to, and if Charles was involved it was usually a _no._

Charles and Tommy managed to secure the tree in the bed of the truck with very little help, reassuring Elsie that they'd be able to get it back home and up into the stand with minimal trouble.

"Give Anna and Fiona a kiss from me," Elsie said as she closed her door, and John nodded. He patted the hood, and Charles headed back to the house, thinking of how they looked very much like a quintessential New England family during the holidays.

* * *

The remaining days between then and Christmas were laid-back and low-key. Elsie was still working, albeit with a trainee nurse helping out. The young woman's name was Jen, and Elsie already adored her.

"You're like a breath of fresh air in this place!" she'd said, making Jen laugh and shake her head, her blonde curls bouncing as she did so.

"Hardly, but I do love the kids. And you've got a great system here, too. I'm sure we'll be just fine."

After school hours, Elsie was restricted to what she considered to be bedrest. She'd been experiencing a bit of swelling in her feet, not uncommon but nonetheless something to watch, and so she'd come home, change, and head to the living room or - occasionally - directly to bed. Charles was taking care of all the meals and housework, and it reminded Elsie of when she was laid up with her back. It was a hard pill for her to swallow, being waited on hand and foot again, but whenever she felt her baby move she knew that a bit of pride was a small price to pay.

 _And you're up for dinner and to tuck the kids in,_ she kept reminding herself. _So there's that._

Sprite had been up to some shenanigans, as expected. Daisy had woken one day to find the poor thing with the tip of one boot stuck in the window, not quite having made it back in before it had shut. On another day, the elf had been hiding in the Christmas tree, and it had taken Daisy ages to find her. She'd also been spotted hiding on the piano strings, tucked into a jar on a shelf with only her hat and eyes peeking out, and even popping up in the cereal cupboard. Daisy had been absolutely delighted each and every day when she found the elf, and even Charles had to admit after a week that it wasn't such a bad thing at all - Daisy's behavior had been impeccable the entire time Sprite had been at the house, and they praised her thoroughly, hoping it would continue.

"She's never been a bad child, surely," Elsie said one evening.

"Oh, but before Christmastime, she can be a bit edgy," Charles replied. "It used to be a want of every little thing on the telly; now it's just a hard time for her. This has put a spark of fun back into it all, and I do have to say that I'm glad."

"I remember last Christmas when you were at Mary's place. You making cookies and a tree at both houses."

"And some special time on the sofa, if I remember correctly."

"Ha! Yes, I do believe so, now that you mention it." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "And look where that sort of thing got you," she added, bumping him with her belly.

In contrast to Daisy, Tommy had been a bit more sullen than usual, but working with Sprite had provided the unexpected bonus of alleviating some of his sad mood. He been thrilled by the creativity of it all, in coming up with new ideas. Elsie shook her head in wonder at the amount of time he was putting into it, and told him more than once how touched she was by it all.

"Never had a sister," he'd mumbled one night as he was writing Daisy a note from Sprite. "It's fun."

Elsie had simply nodded, rubbing her abdomen as she'd headed back to the couch, wondering if he'd have another one in approximately a month and a half.

* * *

 _ **December 25, 2015**_

"Here you are," Charles said softly, bringing Elsie a cup of tea in bed. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, love," she replied. "Are they up yet?"

"No, miraculously. This is the first Christmas that Daisy has ever slept past dawn, I think," he chuckled. He climbed back into the bed, careful not to move enough to spill the tea, and scooted down so that his head was by Elsie's belly.

"Merry Christmas, little one," he whispered, placing a kiss to Elsie's now-popped-out belly button. "Your Mummy and I can't wait to meet you."

Elsie carded her fingers through his hair gently, noting the appearance of a few more silver strands than he'd had when she'd met him.

"I love you so much, Charlie," she said, tears in her eyes. "I feel so very blessed to be on this journey with you. I just needed to tell you that."

He came back up to her side and kissed her soundly, and she sighed a bit when he parted her lips with his.

"I'll spill this," she warned after she managed to break away.

Charles promptly took the cup and placed it on the nightstand before returning his attentions to his wife.

"It's me who's blessed, Els. You've given me an entire family that I never thought I'd have. It's the most precious thing in the world to me."

"I know," she whispered, kissing him again. "And, as it's still early …"

Just then, the pounding of two sets of feet could be heard coming down the stairs.

"Typical," Charles groaned, and Elsie smiled apologetically at him. "Well, here we go!"

* * *

A half hour later, Elsie was laughing as Charles looked at the living room floor, horrified.

"They'll clean it up," she said.

Paper and bows were strewn about, and Daisy and Tommy were huddled in front of the tree, swapping contents of their stockings: his peppermint cane for her chocolate orange, her chewing gum for his strawberry candies, and each of them taking pieces of the smashed Christmas pig.

"Come on outside with me," Elsie said to Charles. "I've something to show you."

"Now?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand, and they made their way out to the deck. There, tucked in the corner, was a brand-new grill.

"But … But that's the same as the one …" Charles stammered.

"From the honeymoon, yes," Elsie verified.

"But … How did you know?"

"Charlie, give me some credit! Every time you'd walk by it, you'd brush it with your fingers. If I were the jealous type, I'd have been furious with the thing!" she joked. "But, seriously, I wrote the model number down one day when you were in the shower, and I texted it to John. He ordered it and kept it hidden at the farm until yesterday, and then he snuck it here for me and put the bow on it. I was terrified you'd spot it before now, to be honest."

He kissed her forehead. "You're the best, Elsie. I _love_ it."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Let's go back in and relax with the kids for a bit."

"Well, perhaps for a little while, but I remind you that we're to have guests in …" He checked the clock. "Four hours."

"It'll be fine, Charles. It's just Isobel and Richard anyhow. Is the roast ready to go in?"

"It is," he said, holding the door for her. "And Daisy will set the table after her shower."

"Perfect. Then I suppose all I need to do is … absolutely nothing?"

They sat together on the sofa, noting that the kids were still discussing their gifts, as if they'd not even noticed that Charles and Elsie had stepped out. "Precisely."

He looked over the things that Daisy and Tommy had opened: art supplies, a book on clock making and repair, some clothes, a couple of movies, a microscope, and a magic kit. "Maybe I'll teach them some of the magic tricks while you're resting."

"Oh, that'd be lovely," she said, tucking herself underneath his arm. "They can do a little show for us later on. They'd love that!"

"As would Richard and Isobel, I'm sure," Charles said fondly. "They really adore the kids."

"They do. Charlie, I've been meaning to ask you something."

"Mm?"

"We need to choose Godparents for this baby," she said.

"And you're thinking of Richard and Isobel?"

"No, but my mind brought me around to the people we're friends with, and those in our family."

"Alright …"

Elsie shook her head. "Sorry, I'm not making much sense. I would like to ask Becky, but then we need another."

"Hmm," he said, thinking. "A man?"

"Doesn't have to be, but that's typical," she said. "It also doesn't have to be someone who could take the children if anything ever happened to us," she added under her breath. "We can ask separate people for that; Becky certainly couldn't manage, of course, but she'd be devastated not to be the baby's Godmother."

"Yes, she's a definite," he agreed. "Well, what about Tom?"

Elsie's face brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course I would," he said, running his fingers up and down her arm. "He's a great friend to you. And I presume you'd propose John and Anna for the other?"

"Yes, I think so. God forbid, but we know more than most that you just can't count on anything going the way you plan it."

"Any indication that they'll be having an addition of their own?"

"Not yet," Elsie sighed. "But hopefully soon."

* * *

Christmas dinner was low-key and jovial, with Charles - as promised - leading the children through a magic show once the main course was finished. He then surprised them all with a true Christmas pudding, of which Elsie only had a small bite but which everyone else made quite a dent in.

"I'm so very glad you joined us," Elsie said to their friends. It just makes the day more special to be able to share it with you." She reached over and squeezed Isobel's hand.

"Well, we have something else that might make it a bit more memorable," Richard said, the tips of his ears reddening.

"Oh?"

Charles looked at Isobel and could read the truth on her face in an instant, but it was Elsie who gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.

"No," she whispered. "Really?"

Richard smirked. "What are you thinking, exactly?"

"Are you getting _married?"_ Elsie asked.

"In July," Isobel confirmed, reaching over to take Richard's hand. "In London, so we hope you'll be able to join us."

"We wouldn't miss it for the world," Charles assured her, getting up and going to give her a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug before offering his hand to Richard. "Congratulations to you both."

"Thank you," Richard said softly. "It was the greatest Christmas joy that I can remember, watching Isobel as she said 'yes.'"

"Well, you're clearly perfect for each other," Elsie told them, and she and the children all offered more congratulations.

"A toast," Charles offered, "to wonderful friends who are like family. May we always remember the joy we found in sharing this Christmas together."

Everyone raised their glasses together.

"To our friends," Isobel echoed. "We're truly lucky to have you."

* * *

Elsie climbed into bed beside Charles, who was sitting reading the book she'd gifted him.

"How is it?" she enquired.

"Very good, actually," he said, placing the bookmark and closing the cover. He put the book on the nightstand and folded his glasses, setting them on top, and then turned his attentions back to his wife. "And I must say, _that_ looks rather lovely on you," he added, raising his eyebrows and pointing to the nightie he'd gotten her.

"It's amazing that it fits."

"It is not," he argued, tugging her hand.

She held his hand and straddled his lap, kneeling gently and demonstrating rather clearly that the nightie was the _only_ thing she was wearing.

"I had plans this morning," she murmured, caressing his face and the hair behind his ears with her fingertips, "plans that were rather abruptly interrupted by two now-sleeping children."

"Is that so?"

"It is." She tilted her head forward a bit and kissed him passionately, shivering as she felt his hands meander underneath the nightie and caress her back.

"Mmm," he hummed. "I see. I presume these plans involved me?"

"Oh, most definitely," she whispered in his ear, just before nipping at his earlobe.

He moved her over a bit to shed his pajamas, then she quickly resumed her previous position. Charles reached to remove the nightie, but she placed her hands gently over his.

"Leave it," she said.

He didn't have time to argue as Elsie very quickly put her plan into action.

* * *

 _ **This is the second time I've tried to update this, so hopefully it goes with minimal issues! I apologize if it was riddled with typos.**_

 _ **Next up, some VERY exciting times! I promise! :) If you have the time and inclination, I'd love to know what you thought. x**_

 ***- according to Elf on the Shelf instructions, children must not TOUCH the elf, or its magic will disappear.**


	56. A Birthday and A Birth Day

**A/N: I daresay this is a chapter you've been waiting for. It's rather lengthy and comes with a slight trigger warning for actual birth information - not hideously graphic, but enough that it might bother some people. I don't want to give anything away, but be forewarned. This isn't my personal history per se, although some parts come from personal experience and some from a great deal of research.**

 **My eternal thanks to brenna-louise for the beta. :) Also, a shout-out to you amazing reviewers, particularly the guests to whom the only replies I can give are these. MWAH!**

 **xx,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Sunday, January 3, 2016**_

She'd been awoken by the feel of his lips traveling swiftly over her bare shoulder ... up her neck to the earlobe, nipping along the way, then brushing across her temple before he moved the hair aside and made his way back down. She tried to turn, but his broad frame was holding her in place; she could feel his heart beating, and its quickening pace mimicked that of her own.

The heat of his hand joined the hotness of his open-mouthed kisses, of his palm traveling up and underneath her chemise and caressing her breast. She gasped; he murmured something in her ear and she was suddenly aware of the darkness in the room, that it must still be the middle of the night and that, thankfully, the rest of the house was asleep. His hand dipped between her thighs, and she unwittingly moved herself back against him, smiled contentedly at the feeling of him pressed up against her. But as he shifted, moved to lift her leg higher, she shook her head: _No,_ she told him; that's not what _she_ needed.

Thankfully, he'd always been a good listener.

He whispered in her ear again - a question, and she grabbed at his hand, managed to push him onto his back and slowly sit herself up so that she could turn and face him in wordless reply. It had been a precarious thing for her, moving about over the past several days, and he knew that rolling onto her back to get on her other side was no longer an option; he remained still and watched her, this beauty of a woman, _his_ woman, and he found himself astonished once again that she was his wife. His eyes drank in the sight of her as she stood, stripped the chemise and matching underwear from her body, and tossed them toward the foot of the bed. She carefully climbed back on, now completely disrobed, and he held a hand out to steady her as she maneuvered her way over to him.

He removed his boxers quickly and, suddenly, she was above him, smiling down; he reached up to caress her, to hold onto her hips as she joined them in one swift, expert move, and he once again thrilled at how _right_ it felt when she wrapped him up within herself.

They'd had to become masters of this silent lovemaking and, somehow, she felt it had lent a passion to them that they hadn't possessed before. All emotion was conveyed in caressing, squeezing, kissing, and gazing into each other's eyes. And tonight was different still: primal, needing, unplanned, and earth-shattering, the both of them finally spent as he helped her to lie down comfortably in his arms. She felt him once again brush her shoulder with his lips, now sleepily, as they drifted off to sleep.

Dawn broke a few hours later, and his eyes opened slowly. He felt the warmth of her in his arms, and a moment later he realized they'd forgotten to dress themselves again before falling back to sleep. He managed to slip his arm out from under her and sit, locating his shorts and putting them back on before reaching down for her gown, wondering where her underwear had landed. But then he peeked under the sheet and realized that she'd actually managed to get _those_ back on at some earlier point in the night.

 _Likely one of the four times she headed into the loo,_ he thought with a smile, and his heart thudded as he realized it would then have been _intentional_ that she'd neglected to don the gown, too. He knew she liked to feel his skin on hers as they slept, and he figured that she'd been counting on his early-morning waking to remind her to dress before one of the kids might pop in, upset about some emergency or other, such as being out of milk or arguing over the television channel. The barrage of all of those thoughts - the passion, the comfort, the warmth, and thoughts of their family - assaulted him, and he had to catch his breath.

"Here, love," he whispered after a moment, and she smiled as she opened her eyes, holding her hand out for what she knew was the nightie.

"Thank you." She sat slowly, gingerly, and slipped it over her head before crawling back under the sheets. He spooned behind her once again and caressed her swollen belly with his warm hand, feeling the movements underneath it as he smiled into her hair.

"If that was the last time, I'd be a happy man."

She laughed at that, and rested her hand atop his. "Better not have been," she answered sleepily. "Much too early yet."

"I know," he said, sighing happily. "But soon it _will_ be the last time for a while."

"Don't remind me." She shifted and tucked herself back a bit, and his arms were full of her once again; he breathed deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of her, unable to remember a time when he didn't know it.

"You won't even miss it," he said, chuckling softly. "You'll be too exhausted."

She knew this was probably true. Isobel has prepared her for the pain of childbirth, for the recovery from it all (which she honestly hadn't given a thought to previously). _Everyone prepares the mother for the birth but not the after part,_ she thought, and she was grateful to have Isobel in her corner, giving her _all_ of the information. She'd been told it would be weeks before she and her husband would be able to resume any sort of intimacy, and she'd been warned that she likely may not even miss it. That had scared her, really. She'd always been so blissfully aware of their mutual desire, and the thought of _not_ feeling that was intimidating to her.

"I don't want to forget what it feels like," she whispered, lending voice to her thoughts. "To want you like this."

He reached over and kissed her on the temple, and he squeezed her tightly.

"Don't worry, love," he soothed her. "You won't."

She nodded, trusting him as she always had, and she drifted back off to sleep, lulled into peacefulness by his soft, steady breathing.

* * *

Elsie woke suddenly, feeling the bed empty behind her.

"Charlie?"

She was puzzled, and she was astonished to look at the clock and see that it was after nine. She managed to get up and dressed, and then she headed down the hall for what she hoped would be an excellent day.

"Good morning!" Daisy greeted her brightly. "Birthday breakfast!"

Elsie laughed as Daisy wrapped her arms around Elsie _and_ the baby, and she placed a kiss to her girl's head.

"I can see that! Smells lovely. Where is the birthday boy?"

Charles tilted his head toward the staircase as he flipped a pancake. "Shower," he explained briefly. "He's excited, though, which is great."

She nodded and stole a strip of bacon from the plate on the counter, folded it in half, and popped it into her mouth.

"Hungry?" Charles asked with a smirk, one eyebrow raised playfully, and she felt herself flush a bit.

"Yes," she retorted. "I'm not really sure why …"

"You're working up an appetite," Daisy said innocently, and Elsie almost choked on her bacon. "Carrying the baby around; it's hard work, Isobel said."

"That it is," Charles agreed, enjoying the look on his wife's face as she regained control of herself. She refused to meet his eyes, but he was delighting in the little conversation.

They heard Tommy come down moments later, his hair still wet but combed back, and a new hoodie and jeans on. He was barefoot, something that Charles couldn't comprehend in the middle of winter. He looked at Tommy's feet and turned away before rolling his eyes.

"Happy Birthday, dear," Elsie said, giving Tommy a sideways hug and a kiss to his temple. "You're going be taller than me pretty soon," she added, and he chuckled.

"Thanks," he said, and Daisy came to give him a hug. "I'm not sure that's saying much," he added with a laugh, and Elsie swatted playfully at his arm. "This smells amazing."

"I hope you like it," Charles said, placing everything on the table. "Let's eat."

They passed plates around, a veritable feast before them: pancakes, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit salad, fried potatoes, and eggs.

"I'm not going to have to eat for a week," Tommy laughed.

"Yeah, right," Daisy said. "You eat a _ton_ of food!"

"Well, he's a teenage boy now, Daisy," Elsie said, helping herself to some syrup. "They eat a lot because they grow quite fast."

"I remember going through that," Charles mused. "And when I wasn't eating, I think I may have been sleeping."

They joked around throughout the meal, until Daisy asked about the rest of the day.

"Well, that's up to Tommy," Elsie said, looking at him. "What would _you_ like to do today? It's the last day of vacation, too."

"Can we go to the movies?"

Charles and Elsie shared a smile. "Why not?" Elsie said.

"Just like last year," Tommy clarified. "I feel like it's right, that we go today. One year from the beginning, I guess."

"Hey, that's pretty neat," Daisy said. "Yeah, cool."

Elsie pulled out her phone and flipped through the selections at the cinema in Portland. "Okay, let's see. There's not much out that's appropriate for us all, I'm afraid. _Star Wars_ again? Or there's this Chipmunk sequel."

"Yes!" Daisy shouted, looking at Tommy. "Oh, but I mean, it's your birthday; you pick. Sorry."

He laughed at her and shook his head. "No, don't worry. The Chipmunks are fine with me."

"Papa won't like it," Daisy chuckled.

"Well, _Papa,_ what do you think?" Tommy asked with a smile.

Charles looked up from his plate suddenly, a question for Tommy in his eyes, noticed by the boy before it blew away.

"I think I can manage," he said gruffly, rising from his seat. "I'll pick up here, and you all can make the final arrangements. Care to invite Jimmy?"

"Sure," Tommy said, a peculiar look now gracing his face.

Charles cleared the table and headed to the kitchen, and Tommy felt Daisy's eyes on him.

"I meant it as a joke," he said softly. "I think."

"Did you? I mean, it sounded like you did, but …"

"I know. And I _have_ been thinking about it."

Elsie watched them with interest. She'd had no idea they'd discussed Tommy calling her husband anything besides _Charles;_ neither of the kids had ever mentioned it. She was happy that they talked about things between them ... important things, such as she and Becky used to do when they were younger. She'd never have expected such a close relationship to have developed between Tommy and Daisy this quickly; then again, they had quite a bit in common.

"Elsie? What do you think?"

She looked up to see the kids looking at her. "Sorry, I was miles away," she admitted. "What was that?"

"Well," Daisy began, playing with the edge of her placemat, "Tommy and I were wondering if we should pick something that we would call you and Papa - the same words for each of us, I mean, so the baby's not confused when we talk to it."

Elsie's heart melted, and she sat back with her teacup in her hands, resting on her belly. "Oh, sweetheart, I don't think the baby will be confused at all. But that is totally up to you two. We aren't making that decision for you; it's whatever makes _you_ comfortable. And you don't have to agree. I'm sure the baby will manage."

"We know," Tommy said. "But it just feels strange, the way it is now. You know what I mean?"

She nodded, understanding what he was saying but unable to relate to it herself.

"What did you call _your_ mother?" Daisy asked suddenly.

Elsie smiled softly. "Mam," she said, and it sounded a bit like _Marm._ "A bit different than the English or American way, but not much. My mother was from generations of farming families, and it was how they all called their mothers. And my father was my Da."

"I called mine Pa," Tommy said with a scowl, "but it doesn't matter, as he wasn't."

Elsie looked back and forth between the children, nibbling her lip as she contemplated them.

"Charles and I will go along with whatever you wish," she finally said. "Whether you change things or not, it doesn't change that we're a family."

The corner of Tommy's mouth curled up a bit. "No, it doesn't."

* * *

"That was really funny!"

The kids started discussing the movie as soon as the lights in the cinema came up, rehashing all of the jokes and having trouble deciding on whether or not it was better than the first movie (with the three of them being in agreement that the _Squeakquel_ didn't even bear discussing, it had been so bad.)*

Charles helped Elsie up from her chair and they headed out, following the kids but at a much slower pace. Suddenly, Elsie stopped in her tracks and squeezed Charles's hand tightly.

"Ow," she moaned. "What the hell was _that?"_

He turned to her, terrified. "What? Are you alright? Is it the baby?"

"It was … ohhh, that's better … a twinge, or something. Here," she said, pointing to the area where her leg and pelvis joined. "Well, _that_ was new and exciting."

"But it's fine now?"

"Yes, it seems to be," she said, mystified. "I think I'll chalk it up as normal until I see Richard tomorrow for my check-up."

"Bed for you when we get home, I think," Charles said. "You've already been up and about too much today."

"We went to one restaurant, where I dutifully sat, and one movie - also sitting. I've hardly over-extended myself, love. Besides, we've Tommy's cake and gifts at the house, and that won't take long. I promise to go to bed after that."

"Alright," he agreed warily. "But any more twinges and I'm calling Isobel."

"Deal."

But there were no more twinges. They dropped Jimmy off, and Tommy headed in with him to thank Mrs. Kent for the _Doctor Who_ hat and t-shirt that the Kents had given him. When Tommy jumped back in the car, they all headed home.

Everyone got comfortable in the living room, and Charles brought the cake out to a chorus of _Happy Birthday._

"Aw, that's brilliant! It's too bad the Masons aren't here to enjoy it. Mrs. Mason did a marvelous job on that!"

The cake was an enormous Tardis, paying homage to Tommy's current favorite show, and Beryl had dropped it off while they were out. They cut into it and served it around with vanilla ice cream, and Elsie told the kids they could have another piece if they wished.

"Present time!" Daisy squealed after scarfing down her last bite of cake. She ran upstairs to retrieve the packages, which had been hidden away in her closet, and returned swiftly.

"Thank you," Tommy said, examining the packages Daisy deposited on the table. He reached out for the one he was sure was from her, pretending to shake it and listen to it despite the fact that he was most certain it was a book.

Peeling away the paper, Tommy gasped. "It's _not_ a book," he said, and Daisy laughed.

"No, it's not. But I knew it would fool you."

The item in question was _shaped_ like a book, but it was hollow: a box with a hinged lid that was designed to _resemble_ a book but which was really for storing things on the inside, hidden away. As Tommy lifted the lid, he smiled: inside the secret compartment was a clock- and watch-cleaning kit, complete with gloves.

"Oh, wow," he whispered, examining the back of the package. "This is great!"

"Tell me about it," Elsie said. "Now perhaps the grandfather clock in the hallway will work correctly again!"

Tommy's face lit up. "You'd let me work on _that?"_ he asked. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," she nodded. "Here you go; this one's from me."

Tommy watched as she shoved a large, heavier box toward him, and he tore away the paper and opened the lid.

"No way," he whispered. "This is _crazy."_ He pulled out various DVDs of _Doctor Who._ "This is the entire set," he added, mystified as to why Elsie would give him such an extravagant gift.

"It is," she verified. "I know you love it, and it's a shame that you've never seen some of the older ones. I thought we should rectify that."

"Wow. Thanks!" He spent a few minutes examining the individual DVDs before putting them back in the box and turning to the remaining package.

"And that one's from me," Charles said softly.

Tommy took the small box carefully, looking at Charles curiously; there was something odd on his face, but Tommy couldn't identify it. He saw Elsie reach over and take Charles's hand, though, and suddenly Tommy was wary of what was in the box.

"It won't bite," Elsie said gently.

"I'd hope not," Tommy said with a laugh. He gently removed the paper and bow and found himself holding a wooden box, with no writing anywhere on it. It seemed familiar, somehow, and he spent a moment looking from Charles to the box and back again, turning the box over in his hands ... and then it clicked.

"No way," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not meant to have this."

But Charles was having none of it. "Open it," he insisted, motioning to the box with his finger.

Tommy complied, lifting the lid to reveal a crushed velvet interior … and, nestled into the velvet as he knew it would be, was Charles's old pocket watch.

"I can't accept this," he said again, shaking his head. "I can't."

"You can, and I hope you _will,"_ Charles emphasized. "Elsie gave me a new one for Christmas, because I'd planned for _you_ to take over the care of _that_ one."

"But … it's too much," Tommy protested. "It's like ... an heirloom or something."

"It is," Charles verified. "It was my father's. He gave it to me when _I_ turned thirteen, and now I'm passing it along to you. 'Every man should own a proper pocket watch,' he told me. It's only fitting that you inherit it now, as _you_ turn thirteen, particularly given your fondness for timepieces."

"But I'm … I mean, I'm not … not _really …_ " Tommy was at a complete loss for words.

"You _are_ my son," Charles said, finding the words that Tommy could not. "In all the ways that matter - _really._ And, as such, that goes to you today."

"But … what if you two _have_ a son? The baby ..." Tommy stammered. "You won't want for me to have this; he'll really be yours."

"We already do have a son," Charles insisted. "As the eldest, that is rightly yours. I insist."

Tommy brushed his finger over the surface, over the scrolled design carved into it. He glanced at Charles's waist, where he saw the new chain dangling, and he realized that Charles had, indeed, been using the new watch since Christmas Day. He'd wondered why Elsie had gotten him a new one; well, now he knew.

"And the kit will help you to keep it clean and in great shape," Daisy added. "They kind of go together."

"And the Doctor Who stuff _,"_ Tommy said with a smile. _"_ _Time_ \- it's like the theme of my birthday."

"Time moves on for all of us, Tommy," Elsie said sagely. "It's whether or not we move _with_ it that's the question."

He nodded slowly, turning the watch over and over in his palm, understanding what she meant.

"Yeah," he whispered, looking up at Charles and smiling at last. "It does." His eyes teared up, but he managed to nod his thanks, the gesture returned in kind by his father.

* * *

 _ **Friday, January 22, 2016**_

It was Elsie's last day of work. The baby was due in another month, and while she'd tried her best to work up until her due date, it had become increasingly clear since Tommy's birthday that she'd be unable to do so. Her health was good for the moment, but she'd been working only part-time - three days a week since they returned from the holiday vacation. Jen was working out marvelously, though, and the kids really liked her - something that made Elsie much more comfortable about going out on maternity leave.

She'd just finished updating a student's file when she stood up from her desk … and promptly gripped the edge of it, leaning forward as a sharp pain made her catch her breath. The pain started in her lower abdomen and fanned out over her belly, making her stiffen and focus on relaxing until it passed.

"Elsie, I have - Oh, my goodness, are you alright?"

Joseph Molesley rushed over to her, laying a hand on her back and grasping her arm with the other. He eased her back into her chair and noticed her pale complexion and the sheen of her forehead.

"I'm fine," she managed. "Just had an unexpected pain."

She grasped the arms of her chair and stood again, albeit with some difficulty. "They've been happening off and on for a few days - false contractions, Isobel and Richard said. Nothing to worry about."

"Okay ... if you're sure," Joseph said, sounding for all the world as though he didn't believe her. "I just came in to give you this file on Suzanne. It's got copies of the letters I sent home to her parents."

"Perfect." She reached to take it, and then felt something … _odd._

"Oh … Oh, _shit,"_ she gasped.

Joseph looked up at her, terrified. "What is it?" he whispered.

She looked up and met his eyes, her face the epitome of calm. "Joseph," she said carefully, "please go and get Phyllis for me, and then please have the front office fetch Daisy and Tommy. My water just broke, and I'm going to need to go to the hospital."

" _Now?"_ Joseph asked, stunned.

She nodded her head, biting down on her lip as fear started seeping into her mind. "Yes, Joseph. _Now."_

* * *

Elsie was lying on the hospital bed in a johnny, with Charles by her side and rubbing her hair gently from her face. "It's too soon," she whispered, a tear streaming down from the corner of her eye. "It's too _soon,_ Charlie."

Isobel was running her hands over Elsie's abdomen, pressing and feeling at times. "I'm going with eight-twelve," she said. "Eight pounds, twelve ounces; maybe as much as fourteen," she explained to Charles. "I think this baby will be just fine. How sure are you about the date of conception, Richard?"

"We could be off," he replied from his spot by the computer, "but likely not by much; all of her development benchmarks were spot on."

"Well, I'm almost never wrong," Isobel said. "In hundreds of births I've been at, I've been wrong about the baby's weight exactly three times. This one seems quite close to full-term."

"And the baby's size is an indicator of his or her development?" Charles asked.

Isobel looked at him and paused before answering. "Not exclusively," she said honestly. "But it's a good sign."

Just then, a wail from Elsie made everyone jump. She reached her hand out and grabbed Charles's, and he rubbed her shoulder as he attempted to soothe her and calm her breathing.

"Surely this type of pain isn't normal!" she exclaimed.

"We're bringing you for an ultrasound," Richard said. "That'll show us for certain the baby's position. The twinges you've been experiencing up until this point are typical for pregnancy at this stage, though, when the cervix can become pinched between the pelvic bone and the baby's head, and the false contractions are normal as well. But now that you're in labor, the contractions will be progressively worse - much different than the false ones you'd experienced before - and they'll be closer together as the hours go by. I don't think you have anything to worry about, Elsie, but we're going to check just in case, to see if the baby has turned at all. _That_ would cause you an inordinate amount of pain."

"Okay." The look on her face said she thought this was all anything _but_ okay, and she watched as Richard and Isobel headed out of the room for a while, presumably for Richard to set up the ultrasound while Isobel went to the waiting room to talk to the kids.

Charles brushed his wife's hair out of her face again. "Sit up, if you can," he said softly, and she complied. He reached into her bag and removed her hairbrush and an elastic hairband, and began to brush through her locks before braiding the hair and tying it off with the elastic. The gentle movements calmed her immensely, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You can braid hair?" Elsie asked, chuckling. "How did I not know this?"

He peered around her body at her and dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I can now," he said. "Daisy taught me."

"You're the perfect father, you know."

He laughed. "Hardly."

"I'm scared," she whispered. "Oh, Charlie, it's so _early."_

"Not that early," he volleyed. "Thirty-five weeks and a healthy weight. We're going to be _fine,_ Elsie. The _baby_ is going to be fine."

"You can't know that!" she cried, but any further argument was cut off by Richard's return to the examining room, an orderly trailing behind him to wheel Elsie off.

"Alright, here we go!" he said, and they headed to the ultrasound room.

As Elsie rested back on the table, managing yet another contraction, Charles watched her in wonder; he led her through the controlled breathing once again, and then held her hand as Richard quickly got the ultrasound under way.

"Everything looks good," he muttered, moving the wand around swiftly. "Vitals are good, and everything looks well-developed. Head's in position … Isobel seems to have been right about the size ..."

He continued to mutter, but Elsie was already a bit calmer. She asked who was with the kids, and Richard verified that Isobel was sitting with them until Mary was able to get there.

Suddenly, she half-sat up and looked at Charles. "Has anyone called Beryl and Becky?"

"I did, as I was on my way here," Charles explained patiently. "Beryl's going to pick Becky up soon and then they'll come here and sit with Isobel and the kids."

She nodded, then rested her head back as Richard wiped off the gel. "Alright. That's good."

"Elsie?" Charles asked.

"Yes?"

"We're going to have a _baby_ tonight," he replied, awestruck. "And I love you."

She chuckled, and reached out for his hand once again.

"You daft man," she whispered. "I love you, too. More than anyone _ever_ has."

* * *

The next few hours, however, brought little progress. Elsie was tired by this point, and frustrated. She'd avoided taking anything for the pain up until that point, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to hold out much longer.

And then the fetal heart rate monitor sound changed, the beeping going from steady to slow.

"Oh no!"

"What is it?" Charles asked, looking at the machine. "Oh, my God …"

"Charlie? It's the baby's heart rate. It's dropping - what's _happening?!"_

Richard and Isobel had rushed into the room by then, with Isobel reading off some numbers to Richard as a nurse recorded them. The heartbeat stabilized again, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Elsie? I'm going to see how far dilated you are, alright?" Richard asked calmly, and Elsie nodded. Richard bent before her and examined her, and she could read the answer on his face before he spoke.

"It's not enough, is it?" she whispered tearfully, and he shook his head as he removed his gloves.

"No, not for this stage in the game," he said. "Because your membranes have ruptured, we need to deliver within twenty-four hours of that happening. You're only four centimetres; I'm afraid it's no better than when you arrived."

"So what do we do?" Charles asked.

"I would normally recommend Pitocin, to induce the contractions to come faster," Richard said. "It will force dilation."

"Not interested, as you know," Elsie said, and Richard nodded. "Next option?"**

"Cesarean section," Richard said abruptly.

"You can't be serious," Charles barked. "She's _in_ labor _now!_ Surely that's not necessary."

Richard looked at Elsie and then back at her husband. "You asked me what I'd do. We can go another couple of hours without the Pitocin and see where we end up, or we can start the Pitocin now."

"No, I won't do that," Elsie said forcefully. "I'd rather the C-section. It's safer for the baby."

"But, Elsie -" Charles tried.

" _No."_

He sighed, but held his tongue.

"Alright," Richard said, having thought up a compromise. "If you can manage, Elsie, let's give it two hours, and then we reevaluate. If you get below seven minutes between contractions, we'll be doing better, and I'd be comfortable continuing toward a vaginal birth."

"And if I don't, then wheel me in. The baby is stable now, correct?"

"Yes," Richard said. "The heart rate is back to normal."

"Okay."

But two hours brought no change, and Richard came in to see how they were doing. He pulled a stool over by Elsie's side and peeked at the printout from the monitor.

"I think it's time to get prepped for a C-section, Elsie," he said, matter-of-factly. "The baby's size is against you with your small frame, and while I think you _could_ deliver this baby on your own given enough time, your body seems to have other ideas. Your waters broke at one o'clock, and it's now eleven; we can push it longer, but the longer we wait the more exhausted you'll be. In my professional opinion, it would be too risky for the baby, not to mention the danger to your spine as you're walking about and laboring for all that time, and we'd quite likely end up right back where we are now, anyhow."

"I know," she said. She reached over and took Charles's hand, and her blue eyes blazed fiercely. "You'll be with me, won't you? I can't do this without you, Charlie."

He squeezed her fingers and nodded tearfully. "I won't leave your side, I promise."

She looked back at Richard. "And you'll perform the surgery?"

He nodded. "I will."

"Let's do it." She looked at Charles. "We really _are_ having this baby today."

* * *

The next ten minutes were filled with bustling activity. Elsie opted for an epidural for numbing her abdominal area, and this was to be administered when Charles left the room to scrub up and don a surgical cap and gown, which would allow him to be in the operating suite with his wife.

As he prepared to wash up, he took a few moments to calm himself and to shoo away any thoughts that this surgery would be putting Elsie in danger. _It's a very common procedure,_ Richard's voice sounded in Charles's mind. _I'll take very good care of her. You know that._ And Charles _did_ know, but the thought of losing either Elsie or that baby frightened him to his core.

Isobel joined him, briefly, to explain that she'd be with the children the entire time, and said she'd been sent in specifically to tell him that they sent their love to their 'Papa and Mam.'

Calming thoughts went by the wayside as tears overcame him, and Isobel handed him a handkerchief, allowed him to weep gently in her presence for a minute or two before firmly telling him he had to get himself together in order to be there for his wife. He nodded and wiped at his tears, thanked her, and finished scrubbing himself spotless, allowing the harshness of the brush on his hands to pull him back into the immediate reality of the situation. But his heart was a bit lighter now, and he couldn't wait until their family of five was complete. He said a brief prayer for the safety of Elsie and the baby, and then he allowed a nurse to tie his gown behind him.

Meanwhile, Elsie was being prepped for surgery.

"Stay as still as you can," Richard coached, and Elsie obeyed, breathing deeply and steadily as the anesthesiologist positioned the needle at the base of her back. "The procedure takes about fifteen minutes, and you have to remain perfectly still. You'll begin to feel the effects quickly, and we'll test you about twenty minutes after he's finished to be sure that everything is numb."

"Got it." She exhaled deeply and, after several more minutes, the anesthesiologist declared her ready.

Elsie noticed the onset of the numbing just as Charles was re-entering the room.

"Alright, let's see here …" Richard tested the effects of the epidural, and declared Elsie ready for surgery.

"Ready to have a baby?" he asked, smiling kindly at the couple.

Elsie reached out for Charles, and he took her hand and leaned over to kiss her forehead. "You bet," he said.

Elsie was wheeled into the operating room, and the hum of activity was drowned out by her husband's calming voice as he sat by her head and reviewed baby names with her, distracting her with chatting about what the baby might look like, and teasing her about the baby's size.

"I'm dreadfully sorry about that," he said, feigning seriousness.

"About not mentioning it until _after_ you'd had your way with me?" she asked lightly, winking at him, and they heard Richard chuckle from where he was stationed in the room.

"Precisely," Charles said, eyebrows waggling. "Many, _many_ times, as I recall," he added in a murmur that only Elsie could hear.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Wonderful times, too." And he nodded, leaning down to kiss her head through the cap under which it was hiding.

"Okay, we're ready," the nurse said, hooking up the sheet that would shield Elsie's lower body from her upper half. She looked up at Charles. "I'm aware that you can see what we're doing down here, Mr. Carson, if you so choose." She paused. "Most husbands don't look, though, so there's a seat there, by your wife's head. You can just talk to her as we go through it. The birth itself will take about ten minutes, and at that point you'll be too distracted to care about _anything_ we're doing here," she said, smiling.

"Alright," he agreed, sitting.

"Here we go," Richard said. "Elsie, at times you'll feel pressure, particularly when we actually get to where we remove the baby. But you should never feel any actual _pain,_ and if you're nauseous, I want you to tell us immediately."

"Right."

"Alright then, making the first incision …"

Elsie and Charles were silent as Richard mumbled through the first couple of steps, each focused on her remaining as calm as possible.

"How're you doing over there?" Richard asked once.

"Fine," came Elsie's reply. "Excited, to be honest."

"Perfect. Alright, we're about to get the baby's head out."

Elsie felt a bit of pressure.

"Oh, my, but you're a big one, aren't you?" Richard said sweetly, and it jolted Elsie's heart to realize that he could actually _see_ her baby … was _talking_ to him or her.

Suddenly, Elsie tugged on Charles's hand. "Charlie, _look._ Can you do it? Please? I need you to see our baby come into the world. For me."

He looked into her pleading eyes, clamped his lips together firmly, and nodded. Standing, he prepared himself for what he knew would be an awful sight - his wife's body in a way he'd never imagined seeing her - and looked over the barrier.

He gasped, but what caught his attention was not the blood, nor the surgical opening, but rather the sight of his baby: a head full of dark hair, below which were sturdy shoulders.

"Oh, Elsie," he whispered. "It's … it's our baby."

A nurse suctioned the baby's mouth and nose, and Charles dissolved into sobs as the rest of the baby's body was removed.

"It's a girl," he managed.

Elsie moaned, and Charles was back by her side in an instant, kissing her temple, with his tears causing her own to fall.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"No, that last bit was just … odd. I _felt_ it, Charlie. I felt … something. I knew the instant she came out. Oh, my God, Charlie … another darling little girl." He reached over to brush her tears.

"It's officially eleven twenty p.m.," Richard told them. "We'll note that for you."

"I have to hold her," she said after a moment, and Charles looked up at the nurse.

"She's just being weighed, Mrs. Carson. And she looks perfectly healthy." And just as the words were out of the nurse's mouth, a cry sounded from across the room.

Moments later, the nurse brought a squirming, red-faced bundle over to Elsie and placed her on her mother's chest, the gown having been moved aside by Charles for the skin-to-skin contact that Elsie wanted; Elsie reached her arms up and cradled her babe to her breast.

"Can I try to nurse her?" she asked in a whisper, and the nurse nodded.

"You can, actually. Michelle, can you assist?"

A young, red-haired nurse headed over to help Elsie adjust her gown and position the baby over her breast. "Mr. Carson, we'll need you to help hold the baby, like this," she said, demonstrating, and he nodded. "Make sure her nose isn't blocked. She may not latch on immediately, but oftentimes they do."

A few moments later, Elsie wept with happiness at the sight of her baby girl rooting and then latching onto her breast, a sight she never thought she'd ever see.

"Pull her upper lip out a bit, like this," the nurse coached, moving the lip as she spoke, "so that it's not trapped. It'll help with her suckling."

"It looks like it's too much for her to manage," Elsie said, but Michelle shook her head.

"It's perfect - you want the mouth opened as widely as possible. Keep an eye on her. As you know, the first several nursings are all colostrum*** and so it won't feel like much at first, but it's the most important thing for her to get into her system. Nursing will also help your uterus to heal."

"Okay," Elsie said, unable to tear her eyes off of her baby's face. She was mildly aware of Richard and his team finishing up the surgery, but she couldn't break her gaze away to look even up at Charlie.

"We have a beautiful baby girl," he said again. "My God, Elsie, you did such an amazing job. She's _perfect."_

"She looks like us," Elsie marveled.

"Your nose, thankfully," Charles said, and she laughed.

"And all that hair!"

As soon as Elsie was stitched up, Richard was by her side. He looked down lovingly at the baby, and then smiled at her parents.

"You did a remarkable job, Elsie," he said. "Her APGAR scores are wonderful despite the C-section.**** We'll monitor her for a bit, but as long as her lungs are healthy, she'll be treated as a full-term newborn."

"How much does she weigh?" Elsie asked, and Richard laughed.

"Eight pounds, fourteen ounces. Isobel was right on the money."

Elsie looked up at her husband. "Your girl, through and through."

"Daisy was just over six pounds, if I remember correctly," he teased. "So you can't _really_ blame me. I think it's all that hardy farmer stock that _you_ brought to the mix."

She smiled and shook her head, then felt a gentle tug on at her breast. The baby had unlatched and had fallen asleep, her head gently resting over her mother's heart.

The next hour was spent getting Elsie into recovery, where she and Charles were given a laundry list of instructions, most of which involved Elsie not moving a muscle without someone else's help.

"Prepare for it to take half an hour to use the toilet, and no way are you in there without either a nurse or your husband to help," she was told.

"We've done that before," Charles laughed, "so all set. Next?"

"The baby will be brought in for nursing every couple of hours, but between feedings, you are to rest."

"I need to see my other children," Elsie told the nurse, whose name was Penny. "I refuse to sleep until I see them and we introduce them to their sister."

Penny smiled. "Understood. We'll get your baby girl in here in about ten minutes, and then send them in. Do you have a name chosen yet?"

"We do," Charles said, "but we can't share that with anyone until we tell Daisy and Tommy."

"Fair enough."

Charles and Penny got Elsie set up in bed, pillows fluffed behind her.

"Feeling anything in your back or abdomen yet?" Penny asked, but Elsie shook her head. "Alright, well, Dr. Clarkson was adamant that you tell us when you do. He's a bit concerned after your spinal fracture, although all signs look positive as you weren't terribly uncomfortable during the pregnancy itself. A cesarean was definitely the best route for you, as it put so little pressure on your spine."

Elsie nodded, and looked at Charles. "Go get them, please," she said, and he leaned down to kiss her before heading out to fetch the kids.

As soon as he rounded the corner, Elsie laid her head back on her pillow and sighed deeply. She moved her hands to rest on her belly, only to have them plop down unceremoniously underneath her breasts, the absence of the enormous baby bump having been momentarily forgotten. She felt a pang in her heart at the loss, and couldn't quite manage to quell it until she heard the sound of rolling wheels as Penny brought the baby's cradle in and placed it by Elsie's bedside.

"No lifting," Penny warned, reaching into the clear cradle herself to remove the baby before placing her gently in Elsie's arms.

"She's so warm," Elsie marveled. "And so pink!"

"She's beautiful," the nurse said softly. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

As soon as Penny had left, Charles came back into the room, accompanied by Daisy and, behind her, Tommy.

"There you are," Elsie beamed, reaching her free arm out to wrap first Daisy and then Tommy in a hug.

"How are you feeling?" Tommy asked.

"Wonderful," Elsie replied. "Tired, but wonderful." She patted the bedside by her hip, and Daisy gently sat beside her, yawning widely, with Tommy taking the chair by the bedside. Charles rounded the bed to the opposite side, where he sat in a second chair. He reached his finger underneath the baby's hand, and she grasped it tightly in her sleep.

"Daisy, Tommy ... meet your new sister," Elsie said. "Juliet Catherine Carson."

"Catherine," Tommy said. "That was your Mum's middle name, wasn't it?"

Elsie looked up at him and smiled tearfully, and nodded. "I can't believe you remembered that," she said.

"It was written in that book you let me borrow, the one that had belonged to her," he confirmed.

"Yes, I remember." She shared a fond look with him, a silent acknowledgement of a loss shared and mutually understood.

"Juliet, like in _Romeo and Juliet?"_ Daisy asked. "I've heard of that."

"Yes," Charles said. "Like in that."

"The one who loved her Romeo so very much," Elsie added in a whisper, looking deep into her husband's eyes, "and who couldn't bear the thought of _ever_ living without him."

* * *

Becky and Beryl came in for a brief visit, but other than them, Richard, and Isobel, everyone was banned from Elsie's room for the next twenty-four hours, allowing her some much-needed rest. Charles brought the children home, and Becky and Beryl would be staying with them when he returned to the hospital; he stayed at the house only long enough for a quick shower and to pack a bag for the next couple of days, as he refused to be anywhere but right by Elsie's side.

Charles kissed Daisy good night and, as he was preparing to leave, he caught up with Tommy in the hallway. They stood for a moment, staring at one another.

"Did you really mean it?" Charles asked quietly. "What you said?"

Tommy nodded slowly. "We did. That is, if you don't mind. _Papa …_ it's odd, but I'll get used to it," he said with a smirk. "Daisy couldn't imagine calling you anything else."

Charles extended his arms, and Tommy moved over to hug him.

"I don't mind at all," Charles said gruffly. "I'm honored - as your _Mam_ will be, when I tell her."

"Well, that's alright then, isn't it?"

Charles nodded. "Indeed it is."

* * *

 _ **Whew! Please do leave a review and let me know what you thought of it all. Two chapters to go, and both will be up within the next week. xxx**_

* * *

*Not the personal opinion of this author. If you have no idea what I mean by this movie stuff, IMDb "Alvin and the Chipmunks" movies. :)

**Pitocin can produce contractions that are abnormally stronger and closer together than natural ones, and some studies show it can decrease oxygen flow to the baby. In an already high-risk pregnancy, particularly one where the baby's size is so large, it's often avoided in favor of other options. In addition, a C-section is often performed when a baby is over 9 lbs. in weight if the mother's frame is small. Many options, with little time to decide …

***Colostrum is generated in late pregnancy, and is a rich, golden substance that comes in before the mother's milk. It's basically very highly-concentrated nutrition, and is what the baby receives during the first couple days of nursing, before the regular milk comes in. This isn't a PSA about nursing, just informational in a story where the mother has chosen to breastfeed.

****Appearance, Pulse, Grimace, Activity, Respiration - tests that show how well the baby is tolerating the birthing process. They are often lower with babies born via cesarean section, but not always.


	57. Endings

**A/N: Here we go - the next to last installment and the last MAIN bit of this fic. It addresses something Charles needed to acknowledge and deal with, as well as something that Elsie, as a new (biological) mother, is also struggling with. And as the first scene of this entire story belonged to Charles, the last scene (minus Epilogue) will end with Elsie - a bit of balance, as it were.**

 **This chapter is mostly set in London, because I felt I had one or two more things to tie up there, and occurs six months after the last one left off.** **The Epilogue will be set in the future, in Misty Cove, and will revisit all of our friends there one more time.**

 **There's another massive author's note at the end with thanks for many individuals who helped make this fic what it is. Please take the time to read it and acknowledge them, even if it's only in your own mind. I almost didn't do that, as I really fear having left people out, but several folks were regular contributors and helpers and I would be remiss in not acknowledging them. 300K+ words ... this story was raised by a village, truly. I've placed all that info here, as the Epilogue will be unread by anyone but me when it's published. :)**

 **Love to you all,**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Friday, July 1, 2016**_

"You've got the number just in case?" Charles asked for the fifth time.

Elsie sighed, and through a monumental show of effort she managed not to roll her eyes. "Yes, love. I've had their number in my phone for about a year now."

He smiled and set his satchel down on the floor and straightened his shirt, and then placed a gentle kiss to his wife's head as he did so.

"I know," he admitted. "I'm just …"

"Nervous," she said, patting his chest. "Yes, I managed to get that far. And I think I can find my way around Logan _and_ Heathrow in the unlikely event that we're separated."

"But Juliet -"

"Will be _fine._ Babies fly all the time, Charles."

"What if she cries? What if she's one of those annoying little ones on the plane that simply won't stop wailing the entire time? It's an overnight flight, Elsie. What if no one can sleep?"

She smirked at him. "Like you'd know," she said teasingly. "We both know _you'll_ be out five minutes after you finish your meal."

"True," he acknowledged with a smirk.

"And what if, indeed? Look, I know what you mean, Charlie, but she's an easy baby; she's already sleeping through the night, and we scheduled our flight to line up with her usual bedtime. I'll feed her as we're taking off - that will help with the altitude change. _Don't worry._ It won't do any of us any good if you do."

"I know. And you're right," he said.

She smiled brilliantly at him. "I usually am," she sighed happily.

"We're all set," Tommy said, coming into the kitchen with Juliet in his arms. "One clean bottom, one favorite rattle," he said, shaking it in the air for effect, "and one _very_ sleepy baby. She'll be out the entire ride to Boston, I think."

The pounding of Daisy's feet could then be heard on the stairwell, and she came tearing into the kitchen to join the rest of the family.

"Sorry," she breathed, a book clutched in her hand. "I can't believe I almost forgot this. I'm all set now."

"Alright," Charles rumbled, reaching his hands out to relieve Tommy of the baby. He cradled Juliet in the crook of his arm, brushing his forefinger down the bridge of her nose and smiling as she cooed in her half-asleep state. "Let's get you in the car," he murmured to her. "We've got one ride to Boston ahead of us, followed by what I hope is a very good night's sleep for us there, and _then,_ your _first trip_ on an _airplane."_

Juliet gurgled, then rolled her head to the side and promptly fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

 _ **Sunday, July 3, 2016**_

The bells of the chapel rang loudly as Richard and Isobel shared their first kiss as man and wife; Juliet picked up her head and turned it, searching for the source of the sound, her huge, blue eyes wide with excitement. She was quite content sitting in her Mam's lap for the moment, though, and the sounds of her Papa's voice were soothing her.

Elsie smiled apologetically when Juliet reached out a hand for Isobel's dress as the happy couple were making their way down the aisle. But their friends stopped to drop a kiss to Juliet's forehead before finding their way out the chapel doors, and Elsie's heart melted.

"It's not about us anymore," Charles whispered in Elsie's ear, the heat from his breath caressing her skin. "All anyone cares about is the _baby."_

"As it should be," she replied, leaning a bit back into his side.

They exited the chapel, their family of five following the rest of the crowd, and Elsie adjusted Juliet's white hat as they stepped into the sunshine. It was a beautiful day - unseasonably breezy for July, for which everyone was thankful. As they made their way down the small receiving line, Elsie passed Juliet off to Charles, who took the babe in one arm as he reached for his wife's hand, clasping her fingers. She squeezed back, sharing in his memories of their own wedding before turning slightly to see the older kids behind them, smiling.

Kisses and hugs were given as they proceeded to the end of the line, and then the Carsons piled into one of the family's cars and headed back to the Crawleys' for what promised to be a lovely reception.

 **oOoOoOoOo**

Juliet started to fuss just as Richard and Isobel were being whisked away in the limo, headed for a glorious two-week honeymoon in Spain. As Elsie was holding Juliet and trying to wave goodbye, Juliet decided she'd had enough of weddings and big parties (and missing nap time) and let out an _enormous_ wail.

"Alright, little one," Elsie cooed. "Shhh … We're all done now."

"Do you want me to take her?" Charles offered, but Elsie shook her head.

"No, but thanks. I'll try to get her to eat, and then I think a nap is in order. Thank God the reception was here at the house. It was lovely of Cora to offer."

"I think Violet had something to do with it," Charles chuckled.

"Well, be that as it may, it _was_ a lovely gesture," Elsie said. "I'm _still_ shocked that _Mary_ was interested in attending."

"Well, it was a good excuse to see her parents," he said. "And to get away from Edith, perhaps."

"They've been doing better, though," Elsie acknowledged.

"Well, Edith is very patient," Charles laughed. "But I'm glad Mary is trying. She'll be better once the newspaper sells."

The sound of his laughter made Juliet fuss again, though, and Elsie bent down and kissed her daughter's head. "We'll just be upstairs in the nursery. I'll see if I can calm her down."

But Juliet cried and cried. She nursed for a bit, then angrily twisted out of Elsie's grasp.

"Hey there, hold on," Elsie muttered, repositioning her clothing as she held on tightly to Juliet. "You'll fall if you keep that up, lass."

Elsie put her down on the floor for a bit, wondering if just not being held would be helpful. She knew the poor girl was cutting at least two teeth, and that combined with her being overtired was an awful mix.

After listening to Juliet cry for a solid ten minutes, Elsie saw her eyes drooping; when Juliet's cries ceased altogether, Elsie sent up a prayer that her babe (and, maybe, Elsie herself) might finally be nodding off for a while. But then Juliet's eyes opened wide again, and she began to whimper.

"Oh, come now, my beautiful girl," Elsie whispered, picking Juliet up again and resting her over her shoulder. "There, there, nothing to fret about …"

Elsie felt Juliet pick up her head, and she turned to see who'd come in the room.

"Tommy," she said, a tired smile on her face. "What brings you up here?"

"Papa suggested you might need a break," he smirked, tilting his head toward Juliet. "Why don't you give her to me for a bit and find him? I think he's waiting for you in the kitchen; he mumbled something about chocolate."

"That man has a heart of gold," Elsie sighed, smiling. "And so do you. She's just so fussy; I'm not sure what happened. She was _fine_ for the entire wedding - even when the piper started!"

"Come here, you little monster," Tommy said, smiling at his baby sister as he lifted her from Elsie's arms. "Now, are you giving Mam a hard time? Are you? It's been a very long day, you know, and I think she's pretty exhausted."

Juliet looked at him and smiled, but then her smile disappeared and she started to whimper again.

"Go," Tommy instructed Elsie. "Before she starts up again; we both know you'll just stay if she does."

"You're my saviour, Tommy," Elsie said, dropping a kiss to his head. "Thank you. Remember -"

"You're right down the hall. Or in the kitchen. There's a monitor; _I know,_ Mam. _Go."_

Elsie headed for the door, but then turned back and smiled at him fondly. She and Charles had counted on Daisy treating Juliet like a little princess, but what they'd not counted on at all was how good _Tommy_ would be with her. The boy was a natural and, at that moment, Elsie couldn't have been prouder of him.

She turned back and scurried down to the kitchen, with thoughts of chocolate in her mind. But as she rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, Charles reached out and grabbed her hand.

She screamed, and he laid a finger over her mouth to silence her.

"Shh," he said, stifling his laughter. "I didn't mean to scare you. Just … come with me." He tugged her hand and led her back up the stairs, to the wing that held their bedroom suite.

She opened the bedroom door and stopped dead, looking around at the soft candlelight, the drawn shades, and the large wedge of chocolate cake sitting atop the nightstand, a glass of milk beside it.

"What's all this?" she asked curiously.

"This," Charles said, hugging her from behind, "is _your_ time out." He indicated the bed with a flick of his hand. "Sit, please."

She looked at him and complied, sitting on the edge of the bed. But he _shoo-shooed_ her with his hands, motioning for her to sit against the pillows at the headboard. She laughed but did as instructed, and he sat before her and removed her sandals, laying them to the side before turning back and beginning to massage her feet.

"Ohhh," she moaned, lying back against the pillows and closing her eyes, feeling as though she were positively melting under his caring touch.

"I'd like to remind you that there's a snack over there," he said after a while.

She opened her eyes and beamed at him. "So there is. Care to share it with me?"

But Charles just shook his head. "That one's all yours. I may have indulged in a piece of my own while waiting for you."

"Of course you did. I can't fault you, though," she said, forking a bite into her mouth. "This is one remarkable cake."

He continued with his ministrations, moving his way up her calves and smiling as she continued to relax, the stress of the day dissipating.

Once the cake was gone, she placed the plate back on the nightstand and downed the glass of milk.

"You really thought of everything," she said. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

After a few more minutes, he shifted her feet to the side and joined her against the headboard; he extended his arm, and she tucked herself up against him, completely relaxed.

"It's so quiet," she murmured, placing a kiss to his chest.

"I shut off the baby monitor," he admitted. "I forgot about it until you just said that."

"Well, I don't hear any wailing," Elsie said. "Even from in here, we'd hear her. Maybe they're both asleep?"

Charles sighed, reading her mind, and reached over to turn the speaker on.

"Just to check and to satisfy your curiosity," he warned, "and then it goes off so that _you_ can _rest."_

"Alright," she said sleepily.

The sound of Tommy's voice as it came out of the speaker made their hearts clench; they were stunned. They'd expected silence, or maybe fussing … but instead, Tommy was singing, with the gentle creak of the nursery's rocking chair sounding softly behind his voice.

… _You can close your eyes - it's alright_

 _I don't know no love songs_

 _And I can't sing the blues anymore_

 _But I can sing this song_

 _And you can sing this song when I'm gone_

 _It won't be long before another day …_

Charles swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat and shut the monitor off, then scooted down on the bed, taking a weepy Elsie with him.

"Bless him," she whispered, hugging her husband tightly around his middle. "Bless our dear, wonderful boy."

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, July 5, 2016**_

"Surely you have it memorized by now?"

Elsie watched Charles refold the letter he'd been carrying around, and he tucked it back in his pocket.

"I do, actually," he said, his gaze drawn to the window. The rain was coming down in buckets that morning, and they were enjoying a quiet moment up in their sitting room, with Daisy and Thomas off on the grounds on some wild adventure or other while Juliet napped peacefully in the next room.

"And?"

"And … And, I don't know," he replied, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know what to make of it, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm going to do about it."

"Well, you've got two more days to decide."

"I know that!"

Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips, but remained silent.

"I'm sorry, Els," he said, turning to look at her. "I didn't mean to snap. It's just that neither of the available options seems like a good one." He moved over to the chair and plopped himself down.

She got up from the settee and moved to stand behind his chair, resting her hands on his shoulders and squeezing, moving her fingers to massage his neck as his head dipped forward. They stayed like that for several minutes, with the only sounds in the room being the rustle of his shirt and an occasional moan of pleasure as she released some of the tension in his neck.

"You should go," she advised eventually, moving to sit in his lap. He draped his arms around her loosely, and she rested her own over his shoulders and leaned in to place a kiss to his forehead. "For her, if not for you."

"I still can't believe you picked it out of the bin," he grumbled. "And _read_ it."

"Yes, well, I did pick it out and I did read it," she said needlessly. "And, for what it's worth, _I_ think he sounds genuine."

"I know you do."

"Where's the place he suggested?"

"Near Kew," Charles replied. "It's nice, actually. Was one of Alice's favorite spots."

She hugged him to her, and he happily allowed his head to rest on her bosom. She knew the instant he'd made his decision, having felt his sigh and the relaxing of his body, and she squeezed him tightly.

"I'll go with you, if you'd like," she offered, but she felt the shake of his head instantly.

"No, but thank you," he whispered. "I think I'd rather have you waiting for us when we come back. I have a feeling we'll both need a bit of cheering afterward."

"Well, I shall certainly try," she said, kissing his head.

"I love you, Els. So much."

She smiled into his hair. "I know you do."

* * *

 _ **Friday, July 8, 2016**_

The car's engine quieted, and Daisy turned to look at her father, noticing that he seemed miles away.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

She fiddled with her seat belt, the tip of her tongue poking out from her lips as she contemplated how to phrase what she was thinking.

"Do you wish we hadn't come? Do you … well, do you ever wish we could just never have to think about it all again?"

He was a bit taken aback by her question. "Do you?"

"I don't know," she said softly. "Maybe … Sometimes."

He just nodded, giving her time.

"I forget so much, Papa," she whispered tearfully, "and I get angry that I can't remember. But then I _do_ remember some of it, and I think it's worse."

He reached out for her hand, squeezing it gently in his.

"We don't have to go in," he said. "I can call him and explain."

"No. We should. Just maybe … maybe it's the last time we have to do something like this. I'm not sure I want to visit the cemetery every time we're here, either. I'm not sure how Tommy goes all the time. It just makes _me_ sadder."

"Fair enough." He smiled sadly at her and nudged her with his arm, and she tried to smile back.

They walked into the restaurant hand in hand. Charles felt that Daisy was walking a bit taller than usual, as though she were facing this as best she could, and he was very glad in that moment that he'd had the foresight to ask Elsie to remain behind, to help pick up the pieces of what was going to undoubtedly be a difficult experience.

Charlie Grigg was already there, seated at a table for four that was tucked into a quiet corner of the restaurant.

 _Good,_ Charles thought. _At least he thought to get a decent place, a bit out of the main crowd._

Grigg stood as Charles and Daisy approached; he awkwardly offered Daisy his hand, and she shook it and then watched with some interest as her Papa did the same, albeit reluctantly.

"I'm glad you came," Grigg said as they took their seats.

"How did you know to write to us at Robert's? That we'd even be there now?" Charles asked, curious.

"I happened to see the announcement for the Clarkson wedding in the paper," he said. "Took a chance that you might be here for it, being family of the bride and all."

Charles nodded, his head tilting a bit as he reevaluated his opinion of the man before him. _Smart,_ he thought. _Cunning, perhaps, but not maliciously. Otherwise he'd have shown up announced at their door and demanded to see us._

"Why _did_ you want to see us?" Daisy asked. Both men were a bit taken aback by her forthright manner, but Charles knew that she just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

The waitress came by and dropped off a teapot and some biscuits, then left without saying much of anything.

"I hope you don't mind; I took the liberty of ordering something for us while I was waiting," Grigg said, pouring for them all. Charles took care of his own cup and the added a bit of extra sugar to Daisy's, but she shook her head and refused to even sip at her tea.

"Thank you," Charles said, nudging Daisy.

"Thanks," she said.

"I suppose this really isn't going to be a social visit," Grigg admitted. "And I understand that. I'm sure neither of you really wish to ever see me again. But I came across a couple of things that I think you should have, Daisy. I wanted to give them to you personally, to ensure that nothing happened to them in the post. I waited, and then took a chance that you'd be here for the wedding."

"What would you have done if we hadn't been?" Charles asked.

"Probably put them in the post after all," Grigg admitted. "They're things that Alice had, but I don't feel right having them. They're yours, after all."

Charles's brow furrowed as he racked his brain, searching his memories for something that Alice might have taken with her when she moved that would have value to him or Daisy. And just as he found the image he was looking for, Grigg pulled the real thing out from underneath the table.

"The scrapbook," Charles whispered. "Of course."

Grigg nodded, handing a large album out to Daisy, who grasped it with trembling hands. Charles silently moved her tea, plate, and flatware out of the way so that she could set it on the table.

"I'd forgotten all about that," Charles said. "When we packed to move, there were so many things … I didn't realize it was even missing from the rest."

"I thought not," Grigg said quietly. "Because if you had, I was sure you'd have come looking for it."

Daisy lifted the cover and gasped. "That's me," she whispered. "I think I remember seeing this book a long time ago."

Charles smiled down at the picture, taken in hospital about an hour after Daisy had been born. "It is you," he said. "That was the best day of my life."

She looked up at him curiously. "And now you have _two_ best days," she smiled.

"Well," he said, "that's mostly true. But you were the _first,_ and that's extra special. Just don't tell Juliet, maybe." He winked at her, and she smiled.

"Juliet?" Grigg asked. "You've another daughter, then?"

"I do," Charles said. "She turns six months old in a couple of weeks."

"Well, then," the other man said kindly. "Congratulations."

Charles nodded, and Daisy continued through the book. In it were photographs from the first five or so years of her of life, with notations about "first foods," "first steps," "first words," and more. Charles had to swallow a lump in his throat as they flipped past "first day of school," remembering how he'd cried more than Daisy had, and how Alice had actually comforted him - genuinely, he knew. It may have been one of the last tender moments they'd shared before it had all truly gone south.

"Papa?"

He shook his head. "I'm alright, petal," he said quietly, and he turned his attentions to Grigg. "Thank you for this," he said. "It means a lot to me - to both of us. Daisy has so few things to remind her of Alice, and it gets harder every day."

"Well, in that case, I'm truly happy that I found _this_ thing," he said, pulling out another object and setting it on the table.

Charles picked it up and turned it over in his palm. "A memory stick?"

"It has four files on it," Grigg explained. "I'd no idea she was even doing this, but apparently Alice was making a series of recordings - for you, Daisy," he said, turning his attention to her. "It appears to have been part of what should have been a larger project. I wonder if she may have meant to send it for Christmas, only she never got to finish it."

"Wait … Recordings? Of what?" Daisy asked, thoroughly confused.

"Recordings of herself - her voice," he said. "One is a video, actually, of her reading a book. I presume it was one that you particularly loved. The other three are just voice tracks: two are stories she's telling - one of those is something about when she was a little girl, and someone named Timmy."

"Her dog," Charles whispered. "She had him when she was very young."

"Ah, that makes sense, then. And the fourth file is her singing a Christmas tune. It's odd, really. She wasn't much for sentimental things, Alice. Except when it came to her little girl."

"She used to be, though," Charles mused. "When she was younger, when we met, Alice was very sentimental, indeed."

Daisy couldn't take her eyes off of the memory stick. "Papa," she whispered tearfully, "do you know what this means?"

He handed her his handkerchief, which she gratefully accepted before wiping harshly at her eyes.

"I do," he said.

Grigg looked at them quizzically, and Daisy answered his silent question. "I've been having a hard time remembering what Mummy sounded like," she murmured. "Now I don't have to worry about forgetting."

He smiled sadly at her. "I know what you mean, Daisy. I still have a message on my phone from her. It's nonsense, something about getting takeaway, but I can't bear to delete it. I listen to it every day, just to remember."

Daisy just looked at him, then at her Papa, and then back at the scrapbook.

"Thank you for this, Charlie," she said. "It was very nice of you."

"Well, then," he said gruffly. "That's alright now, isn't it?"

 **oOoOoOoOo**

Elsie met Charles in the driveway, her shoes crunching on the stone as she, Tommy, and Juliet were returning from a walk.

"Everything alright?" she asked as Daisy flew past her and into the house, clutching what Elsie could see was a large book, with something else held tightly in her fist.

"I think so," Charles said, dropping a kiss to her lips.

"I'll take Juliet," Tommy said, looking from Elsie to Charles and back again. "You two look like you need to chat."

"Daisy's headed up to see if your Aunt Mary is free," Charles informed him. "She'd like to show her something before Mary flies home tomorrow. I'm sure you two would be welcome to join them."

"Gotcha."

Elsie handed over the baby and thanked her son, then took Charles's elbow as they walked away from the house. There was a breeze, and Charles wrapped his arm around her when she shivered. They meandered around for a while, not heading anywhere in particular, and she gave him time to gather his thoughts.

"He was nice," Charles said eventually. "It was a good meeting. I'm glad we went … In another life, I think he and I may have even gotten on fairly well."

"Really?"

"Mm, yes. Anyhow, he'd found some things of Alice's, and he wanted Daisy to have them."

"Things he couldn't simply drop in the post?"

Charles explained, telling her of the book and the photos within, and of the USB drive and the odd assortment of files.

"How very thoughtful of her," Elsie remarked.

"It really was," he admitted. "I'd forgotten that she could be like that, way back when. It seems she was trying to get back to that, in some way - at least where Daisy was concerned."

Elsie squeezed him, and they stopped walking. She turned to look up into his eyes, and saw his uncertainty.

"It's alright for _you_ to miss her, too, you know," she said softly. "She was your wife for a long time, and you loved her very much."

He turned his head away from her, looking out over the expansive lawns of Robert and Cora's property. A few tears fell, and he whispered, "Do you ever miss Joe?"

"I do," she said instantly. "Sometimes. Most often - and ironically, at least to me - it's when I'm with Becky. Something will come up, she'll do or say something, and it will remind us of a nice time we shared with him, a party or a movie or something. And I'll smile, and then I'll be a bit sad, because there _were_ good times. We wouldn't have married them if they'd been awful people from the start, Charlie."

She paused, nibbled on her lip as she contemplated her husband. "You never did allow yourself to mourn her, did you?" she asked. "I think that, when she died, you were so close to being officially divorced that you felt you didn't have a right to."

"I feel a fool right now, you know," he said, wiping at his eyes. "Crying about memories that should have long since disappeared."

"Oh, Charlie," she murmured, hugging his arm, "they'll never disappear. And you _need_ to hold onto them. Daisy will want to know more about her Mum as she grows, gets older. When she has children of her own, she'll share with them _our_ stories, but she'll want _your_ stories, too. She's been trying so hard to remember, even now. Don't help her to forget, hm?"

"I never did allow myself to be sad," he said at last. "To mourn her. I had to be strong, for Daisy. Had to deal with her, with her not speaking, and with maneuvering her through it all. And then we left. Too many memories …"

"But a lot of good ones," Elsie said. "I don't begrudge you those, Charlie. All of those experiences, all of those happy times you had before the bad ones came about, they all made you who you are today. I owe Alice a great debt, the way I see it, one that I'll never be able to repay. She's part of what made you the man you are now, and she brought Daisy into this world."

"You repay that every day, love, by being Daisy's Mam."

She smiled gently, allowed a tilt of her head in acknowledgement. "Perhaps," she whispered.

Charles let out a brief sob, and Elsie wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"I _do_ miss her," he said eventually. "But what _I_ miss is the Alice that Daisy will never remember. She was so young when Alice died, and the few years prior to that weren't exactly fun all the time. She'll never know the Alice that I married, not really."

"I disagree," Elsie said, looking at him. She cupped his cheek, and smiled softly when he leaned into her palm. "She _will_ know her - she _does_ know her. You've said yourself that Alice was kinder when she'd moved on, and that Daisy came to enjoy the time spent at her Mum's place. No, Charlie; Daisy will look at that album, and listen to those recordings, and you'll regale her with stories of birthday parties and Christmases and weekends away, just the three of you. You'll never let her forget that her Mum _loved_ her."

"You're right," he said. "I _won't_ let her forget."

Elsie nodded firmly, then stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, her lips salty from his tears.

"Let's head back," she said. "Mary wants to see you before she leaves."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Alright."

* * *

 _ **Tuesday, July 12**_

"You've been awfully quiet today."

Elsie turned to find Robert standing a bit behind her, looking over her shoulder out the window, his gaze taking in the expansive grounds of his estate.

"I feel like you and I have been here before," she teased lightly, drawing a chuckle from him. Elsie had come to adore Robert - he was lighthearted and fun, wonderful with his grandchildren, and she knew now that he'd provided a levity in Charles's life at a time when her husband had sorely needed it. He was a wonderful man and a good friend - the perfect lighthearted foil to Charles's often quiet nature - and she could see why they'd always been close.

"It seems so long ago now, doesn't it? Back when I'd just met you. I feel like you've been a part of this family forever, now."

"Mm," she replied, lost in thought.

Robert looked over at her. "Penny for them?"

"Oh, I don't know," Elsie sighed, staring out at the sun peeking out from behind the trees. "Just tired, I suppose. But it's wonderful being back here." She turned a bit and looked around the library. "This house, all of you. It's like a second home for him, and I love seeing him here. I think I just feel a bit at loose ends lately."

Robert put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed tightly. "Why don't you leave Juliet in the nursery wing with the other kids tonight? Go out to dinner with Charles. Cora and I will sleep down there with the kids tonight, and you two can have a night to yourselves."

Elsie looked over at him with something akin to horror. "Oh, no. We couldn't possibly."

"She's been sleeping through the night, hasn't she? Charles hasn't stopped talking about the kids since you all arrived, and I'm sure he slipped that detail in there somewhere between Tommy eating you out of house and home and how many times Daisy went riding last week."

She couldn't help but smile, and nodded a bit. "She has been, but …"

"Look," he said, cutting her off somewhat uncomfortably. "I'll let Cora sort all the feeding details and such with you. That's certainly _not_ a conversation I want to have. But do think about it. It's not hard to wheel the crib from your suite back down to the nursery."

He paused for a minute, then added, "I remember the days and months after a baby comes into the fray, Elsie. Those times when you're lucky if one of you has managed to get out of the house in the last month without the baby, even if it's only to buy a pint of cream. You need some time to just be your old selves again … together, just the two of you."

She wrapped her arm around his waist and hugged him back, her head on his shoulder, and nodded. "Maybe you're right."

Elsie heard her husband's footsteps long before he turned into the library.

"What's this?" Charles said from behind her and Robert, a hint of humor in his voice. "Cozying up to my wife? You've got your own, mate!"

Robert laughed and moved away from Elsie, his hands up before himself in mock defense. "No offense meant, old boy. It'd be like sneaking around with my sister."

Charles took Elsie's hands and kissed her sweetly on the mouth before wrapping her in a hug.

"He was ever the gentleman," she giggled.

"Tell him about our plans for tonight, Elsie," Robert said playfully, and Elsie laughed loudly at the rapidity with which her husband's eyebrows shot up.

"Thanks, Robert - that was _very_ helpful," she giggled.

"I live to serve," Robert replied, giving them a mock salute as he headed out of the library.

"What's all that about?" Charles asked as Elsie turned in his arms, her back against his chest so that they could both see out the window.

"Robert thinks we need a night alone. He's volunteered himself and Cora to stay in the nursery wing with Juliet and the other kids, so that we can have some time to ourselves."

Charles rested his chin on his wife's head and wrapped her up tightly in his arms, smiling when she rested her hands over his and squeezed.

"I think that's a _marvelous_ idea," he murmured, "but only if you're up for it."

She sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think I can manage. Something's got to change, Charlie. I don't know what's the matter with me."

"There is _nothing_ the matter with you that some patience and a few nights of undivided attention from your loving husband won't cure," he said.

"Then why hasn't that _worked_ already?" she whispered. "It's been weeks since we've ... well, since we've _started up_ again, Charlie, and I haven't been able to … you know."

He kissed her hair. "I do. Have you asked Isobel about it?"

"Yes. _That_ was a mortifying conversation, I'll have you know. She said the same thing as you and, even though he didn't realize it, Robert: some time alone, with no worries about the baby, would go a long way. Only _she_ suggested a drink beforehand," she said with a smirk. "She tried to tell me that this is a common thing for new mothers to go through, but I don't know. You and I have always been so …"

"In sync?" he suggested, nibbling her ear. "Wonderfully sated as we drifted off to sleep?"

The corner of her lip curled up just a little bit. "Yes, _that."_

"Well, for what it's worth, I say we give it a go," he said, leaning over to brush her hair aside and gently kiss her neck.

"You would," she replied with a chuckle. She turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest. "Oh, Charlie, I do love you. I hope you don't think this _problem_ I'm having is a reflection of how much."

He lifted her chin with his finger. "I could never think that," he said meaningfully. He leaned down to kiss her and smiled against her mouth as she reached her hands up around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss, her tongue moving insistently against his. He felt her fingers curl in his hair, and he was momentarily lost.

When they finally broke apart, Elsie found herself rather breathless. "Well," she managed. "That's a start, I suppose. I think perhaps I should speak with Cora - get things set for tonight."

"No pressure, Els," he said, pulling her close again. "No plans; we'll just roll with it. You'll find your way back to how you used to be."

"If I do -"

" _When_ you do," he corrected, lifting her hand and kissing it.

"Yes, well, _when_ I do, it'll only be because I've got you," she whispered tearfully. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you."

"Well, then, it's good that you don't ever have to worry about _not_ having me, isn't it? I'll always be here for you, my darling. Always."

She looked up at him, smiled, and nodded gratefully, allowing her heart to trust in the words he'd spoken despite the fact that each of them knew better than most that life offered no guarantees.

 **oOoOoOoOo**

As their future rolled ahead, Elsie would look back upon that night and feel a bit sad sometimes, frustrated that she'd be unable to remember all of the details - their _first date,_ Charlie would call it in his deep, rumbling voice, the first time they'd ventured back into being what he'd call a _proper couple,_ instead of just being Juliet's parents.

She'd recall the name of the restaurant in London where Charles had taken her, it now being emblazoned upon her mind as one of the best she'd ever been to, but she'd not remember the color of the walls, nor the face of the waiter who'd so marvelously served each course of their meal. She'd have trouble remembering the taste of her dessert and the vintage of wine that Charles had ordered for himself; she'd know Charles had worn his best suit, but would forget which tie tack and cufflinks he'd chosen.

But the parts of that night that she _would_ remember would outshine all of the others. She'd reflect upon the way her husband had looked at her when she'd come out from the en suite, the small gasp that had escaped his lips as he watched her make her way toward him, clad in a new, deep blue dress that had accentuated the color of her eyes and the new shape of her body. She'd recall how he'd reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair back into her up-do, his fingertips ghosting along her neck, the promise of things to come, of moments late into the night when the tip of his tongue would trail along that same path.

She'd remember coming back from the restaurant to a blissfully quiet house, and she'd smile at the thought of how Charles had poured them each a small dose of brandy, something she'd studiously avoided while nursing but which Isobel had assured her wouldn't hurt the baby just that one time. She'd vividly recall how his hand had trembled as he'd handed her the snifter, how she'd reached out to lay her own hand upon his, steadying him as she took the glass from his grasp. She wouldn't recall the words she'd offered up as a toast, but she would never forget the shimmer in his eyes as she spoke them, nor the feeling she got when she met his gaze. She'd remember the second that she felt she might just be finding the _wife_ again, unearthing her from the mother persona that had slowly been overtaking her being, and she would remember the flash in Charles's eyes when he'd seen that happen.

She'd remember the way he'd set their empty snifters aside and gathered her up in his arms, dancing in their room to music he'd somehow procured from elsewhere in the vast, stately home, the sound coming through speakers that were hidden in the room's shelving. And she'd remember the song, which had always been a favorite, its lyrics holding new meaning for her as she'd slowly spun in his arms …

 _I guess they understand_

 _How lonely life has been_

 _But life began again_

 _The day you took my hand ..._

She'd vividly recall looking at him and smiling then, sharing a reflection of their _true_ first date, of the moment his fingers had touched hers over the back of the sofa. She'd remember the feel of her husband's arms around her, and her knowledge that their lives would be filled with a joy and love that she'd only ever dared to dream about.

She'd recall the soft sounds of velvet and cotton, as clothes were whisked away to chairs and floor, and she'd remember the soft groan of the bed as they lowered themselves down upon it; she'd remember every syllable of the whispered things that had fallen from each of their lips, and the joy she'd felt as she'd given herself to him completely once again, finally falling apart beneath his body as she'd not done in such a very long time.

She'd remember waking in the middle of the night, slipping from the bed and donning a robe, and padding down the hallway to check on her children - fast asleep, all of them, even after the kisses she'd bestowed on their foreheads. She'd remember returning to her man, stripping off the robe once again, and tucking herself back under his arm … and she'd remember the feeling of complete and utter bliss in her heart as he'd rolled toward her in his sleep, clutching her tightly to his body once again.

 _Home,_ she'd remember thinking, even though they'd been thousands of miles from their own. _I'm home._

* * *

 **A/N: Oof. Bear with me for a moment.**

 **It's been emotional writing the end of this fic.** **This is the last MAIN chapter of the story, but there IS an Epilogue coming in a day or two.** **I have a slew of people to thank, and this is going to sound like an awards show acceptance speech. I have no delusions that it's anything like that, but please don't play the music before I've finished. ;) These folks deserve accolades for helping to make this fic the wonder (at least for me) that it became. ALL of my friends have been lovely beacons of support along the way, and each and every one of them deserve a shout-out. I hope they know how much I love them, but these ladies have gone above and beyond in their own ways, contributing time, energy, research, and support ... and pushes when I needed them most.**

 **Gotta start at the top, with the LOVELY _brenna-louise,_ who has been beta, confidante, idea-bouncer-offer, and such a wonderful friend throughout this entire experience. I started writing this story before I met her in person, something that blew my mind when it occurred to me. She is, and will always be, just wonderful. xxx**

 **Huge amounts of thanks also due to _Hogwarts Duo,_ who has provided endless support, pushing, and ideas, and who has maybe read these chapters as much as Brenna and I have. She and _OJBF3_ were my "BIMP squad" (Baby pimps - thank you, Hogwarts Duo), although I'd already decided on that story line long before they started pushing for it. The tap-tap-tapping to pump out new chapters was helpful, too, particularly in long, dark, wintry months when I had no desire to do anything.**

 **To _meetmeinstlouie,_ who always answered messages where I was stuck or overwhelmed, and sent me endless kindnesses. To _chelsie fan,_ who has helped in more ways that she would ever acknowledge, with little, nit-picky things that she and I could discuss for hours. To _dameofdownstairs_ and _joanie fan_ for gorgeous artwork they've done for this story, some of which was a surprise to me - their talents are endless. To _Dillyydallyy,_ who was an actual CHARACTER and who provided the GIFs to prove it. To _YellowBrickRoad,_ who wasn't even really invested in this fic, but for a conversation we had long ago about how it's always best that a Chelsie fanfic involving children wouldn't toss the children by the wayside for the sake of the romantic relationship between Charles and Elsie. I hope I've maintained that balance here, my dear - that thought was always at the forefront of my mind. x**

 **Special shout-outs go to _Mistressdickens,_ who gave me the idea for yet another "fall" - the biggest one - and to _kouw._ It's _kouw's_ fault this story even _exists._ "Do your Modern AU idea for a NaNoWriMo," she said to me. "Give it a shot - who knows?" ****Who knew, indeed?**

 **In addition, I'd be remiss in not thanking _lemacd,_ who devoted a great deal of her own time to sharing her personal stories with me and answering an endless stream of questions, thereby allowing me to get a very important plot line done correctly. I've loved that, and loved finding a fellow Banna shipper who understands my Chelsie ways. :)**

 **And, last but CERTAINLY not least, this story would have gone NOWHERE without the encouragement of all of you lovely reviewers - identified ones and guests together - who've stuck by me and sent the supportive thoughts that kept me going for the past eight months. THANK YOU.**

 **Epilogue coming soon. _And I Love You So_ is on the Spotify playlist for this fic. xxx**


	58. and Beginnings (Epilogue)

**A/N: Flying solo on this last bit, so please forgive any errors in wording, spelling, etc.**

 **I give you a glimpse into the future with this one. I will be revisiting Misty Cove at some point in the future; in the words of this AU's Charles, "I promise." However, those will be one-shot glimpses and will be posted in my "Chelsie Pride and Tumblr Prompt Collection" story, so do give that one a follow if you'd like to receive the notifications. This story, once proofed one final time, will be marked "complete."**

 **Thank you all once again for being a part of my first foray into Modern AU Chelsie. It's been a wild ride, and I am ever so grateful for your encouragement along the way.**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **June ~ Five years later**_

"Elsie, I can barely hear you." Charles was trying desperately to focus on what she was saying. "You're _where?_ I don't understand."

Elsie ducked into the post office. "There, is that better?" she asked. "Loads of traffic through town today; everyone's headed to the beach, I think."

"Yes, much, thank you," he said gratefully. "Now, what were you saying?"

"I'm running late," she said quietly, not wanting to upset the postmistress with her conversation. "Had to wait for the ice chest to be unlocked, of all the damned things. I've got the bags now, though."

"You'll still be there on time, won't you? Or close to? You can't miss his arrival," Charles worried.

"Don't fret, Charles," she said, calming him. "Nothing's more important to me than this party. I'll be there."

"Alright. Maybe we'll meet you at the farm, then. Does that make more sense? Daisy's already there anyhow."

"Perfect."

"I'll see you when you get there, love."

She smiled. _Love. Almost seven years and he still calls me that._ "Bye."

Charles hung up the phone and turned to see Juliet standing right behind him.

"Papa, was that Mam?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement. "Will she be home soon so that we can go?"

"No, love, she's not coming here. _We_ are going to the farm together, and she'll meet us there instead. She's just running a little bit late."

"But she _is_ going to be there, isn't she? She _can't_ miss it."

"She'll be there," he told her.

He reached forward, and she lifted her arms so that he could pick her up.

"Oh, you're such a big girl now," he groaned playfully, making her laugh. It was a running joke in the Carson home that Juliet was such a tiny thing, despite having been so big when she was born. She reminded him so much of Daisy in some moments, but where Daisy resembled Alice more and more the older she got, Juliet's auburn hair and the freckles that appeared when she caught the sun were all Elsie.

"Are you sure?"

"Sorry? Oh, yes, of course she'll be there," he said, carrying her toward the living room. "Now, where are those lovely boots Aunt Mary bought for you?"

"I'll get them!" Juliet said, dropping down to the floor and fetching the hot pink riding boots.

Charles smiled as he watched her plop down and tug them on, tuck her jeans in, and tighten her ponytail.

"All set?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yup! Let's go, Papa! I want to see the look on Tommy's face when he sees us all!"

 **oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

Tommy drove his car up the driveway toward the barn, with Logan's hand resting on his knee. He parked behind about twenty _other_ cars, his mouth agape.

Logan turned and smiled at him. "Surprise."

"You _knew_ about this?" Tommy whispered.

"I did," Logan smirked. "Your Mam texted me a couple of months ago and asked me to be absolutely sure that we'd be free - and to be sure that _I_ wasn't planning something on the same day."

Tommy swatted at his arm. "I can't _believe_ you, ganging up on me like this! Wait … is that Uncle Robert I see over there?"

"I believe so. Elsie _did_ mention some out of town guests. Said I'd finally be able to meet the rest of your family."

Tommy looked out over the crowd that had gathered under the tent, seated at tables and chairs, and he realized how much effort had gone into planning his graduation party right under his own nose. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he spied the Masons, all of the London Crawleys, Aunt Becky, several townspeople, neighbors, and all of their Misty Cove family as well.

' _Let's celebrate with just us and Logan,'_ he remembered Elsie saying, thinking back to two nights ago when they'd left the graduation ceremony and headed out for dinner at an exclusive restaurant on the beach.

 _Nice one, Mam._

"That little plotter," he muttered, and Logan chuckled; just then, they heard Juliet's squeal as she ran full-tilt toward the parked car.

"Tommy!" She landed on his door with a thud, and he smiled brilliantly at her as she backed up enough for him to open it.

"Hey there, little monster," he said affectionately, picking her up and squeezing her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Happy Graduation!" she shouted, and he laughed.

"I'll say. Did you and Mam cook all this up yourselves?" He tickled her ribs and she twisted in his arms, but he managed to keep her in his grasp.

"Daisy and Auntie Anna helped," she said, laughing. "Do you like it?"

"I _love_ it," Tommy reassured her.

"Hey there, Ju-Ju," Logan said as he reached in the back seat for a gift bag.

"Hey, Logan! Is that for me?"

"It sure is," he smiled, handing her the pink bag. "Take it to your Mam and she can help you with it, alright?"

"Okay. Thank you," she said sweetly, and Tommy put her down so that she could take the bag and find Elsie.

"Are you ready?" Logan asked Tommy.

"Yes. Are you sure _you're_ ready?" Tommy asked him seriously, brushing Logan's fingers with his own. "I'm sure they'll all be just fine meeting you, but Violet can be a piece of work sometimes."

"So you've told me," Logan said, smiling. "But you always maintained that your father would have the hardest time with us being together, and he and I get on just fine. No worries - I can charm anyone." He winked at Tommy and then followed him back to the tent.

"No kidding," Tommy murmured, a smile on his lips.

Cheers erupted as Tommy made it to the tent, and he was suddenly surrounded by well-wishers bearing their congratulations. Ever-protective of her boy, Elsie moved a bit closer when he went to greet Violet. But she needn't have worried, for within mere minutes Logan had been introduced, handed a beverage, and invited to sit, and Violet was laughing about something he'd just said. Elsie caught her husband's eye from across the tent and received a very clear _I told you so_ look from him.

Elsie smiled and shook her head, and a tug on her hand drew her attention from her husband.

"Auntie Essie?"

Elsie smiled at the lovely boy before her.

"Yes, Jack?"

"Are we gonna ride the horsies soon? Maybe Peaches?"

His blond hair was blowing a bit in the gentle breeze, and Elsie couldn't resist the sweet look in his deep, brown eyes.

"Why don't you find your Mum," she said, "and see what she says?"

He went tearing off across the driveway into Anna's open, waiting arms. Elsie watched as they had a small conversation, and she smiled when Anna looked up at her.

 _After the cake?_ Anna mouthed, and Elsie nodded.

The rest of the party - cake included - was a rousing success, and as she boxed up the cards that Tommy had opened, Elsie looked out over the farm in appreciation. She still owned the property, and she owed a lot to John and Anna; they'd not only kept the place up, but they'd worked tirelessly make small improvements over the years, the new barn being only one small aspect of that.

As Elsie's attention was drawn to the paddock, she noticed Scarlett nudging Peaches, who had arrived at the farm a few years ago. Star had been sold to a different farm in New Hampshire about two years after Elsie's fall. She'd been sad to let him go, but the fear of interacting with him had simply proven too much for her to overcome. However, she knew the new owners, both horse trainers, and knew he was being well taken care of.

Peaches, on the other hand, was a calm, gentle rescue. She'd fit right in with Scarlett as both girls were mild-mannered, and Scarlett had recently even come to look out for the new horse, staying close by her when they were both out in the paddock and someone new came near. Anna routinely taught riding lessons on both horses, and both were used for equine therapy sessions as well.

But as much as Elsie adored Peaches, Scarlett would always be her girl. She'd finally managed to get back in the saddle on Juliet's second birthday. It had been slow-going, and a combination of therapy, determination, and Charles and John's never-ending patience with her had finally enabled Elsie to cross that divide. The Carsons had gone to the farm that day so that Juliet could "ride" with Anna, and Elsie had simply decided to get in the saddle herself after watching Anna carefully holding Juliet atop Scarlett while John led them around the paddock on a lead. _If Juliet can do it, then so can I,_ Elsie had told herself. And while she'd merely ridden and held on tightly while John had led Scarlett for one turn around the paddock, it had been enough to boost her confidence. Now, three years later, Elsie had even more confidence, but she never rode without someone else right by the fence or in the barn, and _certainly_ never with no one else at home.

"Fancy a ride?"

Elsie turned swiftly, startled by John's sudden appearance by her side.

"Perhaps later," she allowed with a smile. "Your son's already hit me up."

John laughed. "Of course he has; you're his favorite Auntie." He took a sip of his drink. "Nice party, Elsie."

"Thanks for agreeing to have it here - _and_ for volunteering to have all the younger kids over tonight. I'm not sure which I appreciate more!"

"You're very welcome. Everyone seems to be having fun. And the guest of honor is doing a fine job of circulating, thanking people, and making sure he's talking to everyone."

"He is, isn't he?" She felt a surge of pride at that - John didn't dole out praise very often, but people knew it came from the heart when he did.

"So – USM. He should do well there, I think."*

"Yes," she said. "He can't wait. He'll be close enough to come home whenever he wants, but he's looking forward to living on campus. Logan will be starting his second year there, so Tommy's already acquainted with a number of the students. Of course, it helps that half of Misty Cove ends up at that school."

"He told me he's going to study Criminology," John said thoughtfully. "I'm not surprised, given all he's seen in his lifetime."

"No," she replied quietly, niggling her lip. "Neither am I."

As the party began to wind down, Elsie finally found Charles at her side. He draped an arm around her shoulders lightly and placed a kiss to her temple.

"I'd say today's been a rousing success," he murmured in her ear, his breath warm against her neck.

She shivered and saw his resulting smirk. She swatted at him playfully and then turned as she heard Mary and Evelyn approaching.

"We've come to say goodbye," Mary said, kissing her uncle on the cheek. "We've already said our goodbyes to Tommy, and we have plans to have him over for dinner with Logan next week. You should join us."

"Perhaps we will," Elsie said.

"Logan seems like a nice young man," Evelyn said. "I can see why you like him."

"He's always been sweet," Elsie said. "Even as a young boy. And he's very good to Tommy."

The younger couple left, and Elsie took Charles's hand in hers.

"Where'd all the kids disappear to?"

"Inside," he answered. "They're watching a film with Daisy. They got bored when everyone else headed out."

"Do I need to even _ask_ which film?"

Charles's laughter rang out across the field, startling Max from a deep sleep.

"No," he said, still chuckling, "probably not."

 **oOoOoOoOoOoOo**

"Here you are," Charles said, handing Elsie a glass of wine.

"Oh, bless you, you lovely man."

He chuckled as he sat beside her on the porch swing, the sound of the waves crashing up onto the shore before them as the sun dipped back down over the horizon. "Who'd have thought when I met you that we'd be sending one of our kids off to university just a few years down the road?"

"Certainly not me," Elsie mused, sipping her wine. "I never thought there would be any kids _to_ send off. But then I met you."

He scooted over closer to her and leaned down to murmur in her ear. "And what did you think would happen when you met me, Ms. Hughes?"

She laughed softly, turning to cup his cheek. "You've not called me that in a long time, Mr. Carson," she murmured back. "I'm not that lonely farm girl anymore, you know."

"I don't know," he mused. "Deep down, sometimes, I think you still are. Not lonely, mind you, but a farm girl through and through. Tough, independent, caring ... protective."

"Hmm, well, perhaps. To answer your question, I thought, 'Here's this handsome, lovely man who's just walked into my office with his absolutely adorable daughter.'"

"She was rather adorable, wasn't she?"

Elsie was silent for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes as she remembered the day.

"She was. And thank God she was there, because she lent a bit of levity to a _very_ charged atmosphere. I was speechless; you took my breath away, Charles, and that had never happened to me before."

She leaned forward and kissed him softly, slowly, and he heard a little hum escape her mouth.

"I'll never forget that day, Elsie. One look at you - frustrated, eyes lit up, a wisp of hair fluttering about your face - and I knew my heart was no longer mine for the keeping. I'd been so intent on protecting it, keeping it tightly walled in. But in the span of a few seconds, it had simply broken free."

"Well, then," she said, touching her forehead to his as she looked into his lovely, dark eyes, "it's a good thing I found it, Charlie."

"I know you'll always keep it safe," he whispered.

"I will," she promised. "I love you so much, Charlie."

"I love you, too, Els. More than anyone _ever_ has."

* * *

 ***University of Southern Maine.**

 **Meetmeinstlouie provided a name where I needed one; I simply couldn't resist writing in a tiny nod to her epic fic, _Winter,_ in thanks. We often share a brain when writing fic, but Logan's charm was, indeed, intentional.**

 **One more little review would be delightful if you have the time. xxx Chelsie on, my friends.**


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